


The Wolf II

by Yokan



Series: The Wolf Series [2]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But also canon divergence, Canon Compliant, Ensemble Cast, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jackson Kenner as a cinnamon roll, Mikaelson Family Drama, Minor Character Death, Minor Kol / Davina, Mystic Falls Gang - Freeform, Some Humor, Somewhat Domestic Caroline Forbes / Klaus Mikaelson, Temporary Character Death, The Originals season two rewriting, Tied to TVD Season 6, minor Elijah / Gia, some lingering love triangle feelings, the dreaded baby!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 426,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yokan/pseuds/Yokan
Summary: The Guerreras' threat still looms over the Mikaelson house as Caroline tries to adapt to life as a vampire, away from her daughter. But an unexpected family reunion makes everything worse, taking away the little peace Klaus, Caroline and Elijah managed to find after the war that nearly broke them.[It's The Originals Season 2, but Caroline was a witch, had Klaus' baby and  now she's a vampire. Klaroline, obviously.]
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Series: The Wolf Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840768
Comments: 1056
Kudos: 647





	1. S02E01 Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> As we say in Portuguese, "nunca diga desta água não bebereis porque até que bebereis, sim" (or: never say never).
> 
> The baby fic nobody asked for, rewriting that show fandom loves to hate! :D 
> 
> Here I bring you the first 14 chapters of the second season of **The Wolf**. As the title suggests, this story is a sequel. If you haven't read **[The Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223143/chapters/45705865)** , I highly recommend that you do. If you've watched The Originals, you'll likely still be able to understand this, but there are probably many details that will go right by you.
> 
>  **This is a rewriting of The Originals Season 2.** It picks up where I left off, but I cannot stress this enough: if you hate TO, if you especially hate the second season of TO, then this is probably not the story for you. Much like I did to S1, this will follow canon as closely as possible, even down to some scenes. Plot points are all the same. However, this season does get a lot more twisted than S1. Consider yourself warned about what to expect from this story. Again, for the people in the back: **this is The Originals Season 2**. 
> 
> For the sake of keeping this story going, I have tweaked with the show's mythology and just made up a bunch of stuff. Caroline is not a hybrid, but she's not _just_ your ordinary vampire either, and this will have a significance further down the road, when I will basically mess up the whole thing to suit my purposes. Considering showrunners did the same thing whenever it was convenient, I do not feel particularly guilty over it.
> 
> I love Jackson Kenner with a passion. Don't even @ me to hate on him, he gets major plot points in this story. I don't care.
> 
> While I tried to wrap the first season in a somewhat positive note, in reality season 1 of the TO has quite a bleak ending. So for the purpose of getting this thing going, I had to backpedal a bit on the optimism. Also, I thought it was necessary to set the tone and get the character development on the road. Hopefully, I did it in a way that makes sense. However, in case you haven't watched The Originals, I have to clarify that the first episode of Season 2 is almost completely detached from the rest of the season. It's like a continuation of S1, and the actual S2 begins on the second episode. So while things are gonna be a little rocky here, chapter 2 is... Different. The angst factor is a lot stronger on the first episode than on the following episodes (up to 14, which is how far I'm posting).
> 
> There are more notes at the bottom that I think are important and you should read.
> 
> Ever since I finished S1, I started working on this. For a long time, I didn't feel like posting it. Then I did, but then I didn't again, so I took it down. For the last four or so months, I've had the support of some amazing people who had been reading these chapters beforehand and being kind enough to share their impressions with me and it's only because of their incredibly thoughtful opinions that I have decided to put this up. **Sweet4Nothing, Recyclings, Sekretny13 and Carrie** , thank you! Your support through times of extreme doubt has meant the world to me. ❤
> 
>  **coveredinthecolors** helped me by betaing the first two chapters of this story, and if they read much better than the other ones, that's because she has magical beta skills. Also, the beautiful art on this story is hers!
> 
> This story has not been beta'ed and English it not my first language, so while I do try my best to catch all of the little mistakes, I'm sure many have escaped me and I will spot them just as soon as I click post. I apologize beforehand!
> 
> I've had incredibly crappy four months and there's no light at the end of the tunnel for when this quarantine period will end for me, so this is a way to keep me motivated and also to maybe have some fun with the fandom. So this is all in good spirits, ok? It's fanfiction, it's for fun! If you don't like it, just close your tab. But if you DO enjoy this, I would love to know your thoughts. I realize this is a VERY, VERY LONG STORY, but I do look forward to seeing how you guys feel as you move along. And if you decide to drop me a note, you'll be making my day! Comments are life and I'm only a little bit embarrassed to admit how eager I am to get some. Don't judge.

* * *

_You've got no place to hide_   
_And I'm feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside_   
_One look in my eyes_   
_And you're running 'cause I'm coming_   
_Gonna eat you alive_

* * *

The city of New Orleans is famous worldwide for its ghostly, macabre stories.

Everywhere you go, blood, guts and gore run aplenty. Rather than making it a gruesome lesson, the Big Easy has turned its long history of mass murders, public executions, arsons and hidden torture chambers into highly sought-after commodities. People flock over from all around the world, desperate to be _spooked_.

It's been like that for hundreds of years, long before crossing the ocean or even the country had been made swift and uncomplicated. Humans are paradoxical like that, with their morbid attraction to that which scares them the most: death. The number of tourists drawn to the city by the latest bout of violence to hit the streets of the French Quarter is a clear example of that – and, in Elijah's opinion, simply obscene.

_Gang violence turns the French Quarter into a warzone, leaving dozens of dead in New Orleans_ , read the newspapers the following day. It was all it was talked about, all over the country, for weeks. _Gang_ . That is certainly one way to put it. Another, more accurate one would be _furry pack of audacious, traitorous maggots_.

Amidst the city's abundant list of terrible and vicious episodes, dating back from before it was even officially founded, haunted sites have always been its crown jewel. The so-called _paranormal_ occurrences, usually connected to particularly awful events, are the bread-winner of many specialized tour-guides, posted on every corner of the French Quarter offering their services to whoever is willing to pay. Delphine Lalaurie's mansion is, perhaps, the most famous spot in all the Quarter, with tourists gathering around its doors and under its balconies to hear tales of her sadism and cruelty. At night, they say, you can still hear the groans and screams of the enslaved men and women she tortured and mutilated within those walls. Except it's not really the dead slaves screaming — it's Madame LaLaurie herself.

After her horrors were uncovered, she attempted to use her fortune and connections to flee, but Marcel had a different idea. He fed his blood to the many men and women found in appalling conditions in her house, the ones who wouldn’t have survived otherwise, and then captured and turned the LaLaurie couple as well. One lifetime wouldn’t be enough punishment for those two.

There's a spelled door in the basement where she used to keep her prisoners that realtors and homeowners never see. That has been Delphine's tomb for almost two hundred years now. At the beginning, her former servants used to go there almost every day to let her know just how _sorry_ they felt for her terrible fate. As time went by, they eventually lost interest, moving on with their immortal lives. Every now and then, however, one will still show up to feed her blood and make sure she doesn't desiccate. That would be too kind an outcome for that woman. It's usually shortly after one of those visits that the new owners or the house staff can hear her pathetic wails and howls. It used to scare the residents, many of whom have fled into the night, never to return to the house. Now, however, it seems they have realized they can make rich bucks out of the mansion’s fame. Even some eccentric celebrities are amongst the mansion’s recent owners.

The Fauline Cottage is another favorite. To an outsider, the mansion looks abandoned. In a certain way, it is. As far as the city records show, the Fauline family never quite settled their inheritance disputes after the death of the old Fauline dowager, who passed away with no children of her own to whom the property could be directly transferred. With time, the place became decrepit and inhospitable — but not uninhabited. Niklaus and Marcel had a friend spell the mansion shortly after the owner's death to punish a couple of wayward witches who used to cause trouble around the city by aiding their brother Kol in his wicked and mysterious activities. After that, the city's covens turned the place into a sort of prison for undesirable witches — murderers, degenerates, deranged, too far damaged to be contained. Over the decades, many have gone in — and no one has ever come out. No one but a few designated witches have access to it, and no sign of activity can be seen from the outside. Sometimes, however, strange sounds can be heard. It's quite daunting. Tourists love it.

Elijah thinks the Mikaelson compound is likely to make the list of favorite hotspots for spooky tours soon enough. The place certainly has its own nasty history of gruesome incidents, having been bathed in red more times than Elijah cares to remember, although most of these _incidents_ won’t show on any official records, having been thoroughly erased either by compulsion or a few generous _donations_ . Under Marcel’s rule, the place was known by the suggestive — however obnoxiously distasteful — name of _L'abattoir_.

Their home is certainly a worthy representative of the bloody, brutal and downright horrid history of the city itself. Lately, however, it’s gained even more of the fantastic contours that tourists so very love, more like a haunted mansion than it’s ever been.

In many ways, that's exactly what it is. Haunted.

When the compound isn't eerily quiet, it is taken with mayhem. It's the only two states there are these days, no in-between, no semblance of normalcy whatsoever. It's either an abandoned mansion, with monstrous ghosts creeping in the shadows and sheets covering all the garden furniture that no one seems to use anymore, or it has _too much_ liveliness. The wrong kind of liveliness. The type that would spark the hearts of the ghost-hunters of New Orleans. If they were to stand outside right now, for instance, they would be able listen to a cacophony of grunts and rumbles, all courtesy of the most haunted man in all Crescent City: Niklaus.

In the early days, shortly after the battle that sealed his niece's fate and carved a hole into the very soul of their family, things felt lighter, if that's possible. There was a certain hopeful air about the place. They'd been defeated, but not annihilated. Bent, but not broken. All they needed was time, and not even an abundance of it. To their understanding, the worst was already behind them. Things could only get better. They were all under the false impression that their situation would be hastily resolved; Niklaus would recover from his full moon blues, Caroline would get her bearings and learn how to adapt to her new condition and Elijah would be there to provide the both of them with whatever they needed, all the while making himself ready to strike their enemies when the time came. But as they moved along, it became painfully clear that nothing would be as easy or as straightforward as they'd hoped for.

Niklaus’ strength was never quite fully restored, and as the next full moon approached, he began to feel weaker and weaker, like someone coming down with an illness. The more affected he felt, the more his mood soured, and when the day was finally upon them and he was rendered as helpless as he'd been the month before, he simply blew up in rage.

He wanted to attack the Guerreras straight away, jump Francesca's throat and never bother about a thing. Except if they were to do this right, they'd need a bullet proof plan. If even one of the Guerreras managed to escape with a stone, Niklaus may never return to his full abilities, and each new full moon he'd fall prey to the effects of the sordid enchantment Genevieve put on those rings. In order to do things right, first they'd need to locate each one of the stones, figure out how Francesca distributed it amongst her allies, and devise a scheme on how to corner each and every one of them without allowing for the others to be alerted and escape. And whilst they worked on that, they'd have to keep selling their grief over the loss of Baby Girl Mikaelson, as her fake tomb read.

Not that it was a difficult selling point, of course. Niklaus refused to leave the compound, remaining locked in his studio for most of the day. In four months, he was rarely seen around the Quarter. It was both a part of their plan and a necessity; if Niklaus was to run into one of the Guerreras, it was very likely he wouldn't be able to restrain himself. Francesca had sentinels watching the compound almost 24/7. It was unlikely that he would ever go outside and not be seen. Instead, he focused all his anger and frustration into his art, which is... An altogether different problem.

Niklaus' explosive and hyperbolic ways, however, are nothing new to Elijah; he's quite used to it. Lashing out was expected of him and it is, to a certain extent, a good thing. As long as he's letting out his rage in a manner that does not compromise their cover or their future, it's fine. Bothersome, annoying at times, sure; but manageable. The real, most troublesome issue, in Elijah’s opinion, lies elsewhere.

Caroline.

Her initial optimism was slowly doused by the delay in finding a solution to their dilemma. Caroline wanted revenge, and she wanted it fast. The longer it took for things to move forward, the more distant and closed off she became — and the more she withdrew into her own, the worst Niklaus grew. It was the perfect storm. The two of them were attached at the hips after the first few weeks — and then, before long had passed, they weren't speaking to each other anymore. Each day that went by with no answer and no plan, with no clear prognosis of when or if she'd be able to have her daughter returned to her, Caroline's light dimmed further, and Elijah's heart shattered a little more.

He could perfectly understand his brother's sense of inadequacy and powerlessness for he felt it too. What he could not understand was Klaus' apathy. Her clear discontentment drowned him in guilt once more and, much like a child who's done something wrong but has no idea how to acquit himself, he opted for the easiest route: avoidance.

Elijah insisted that Niklaus should take her out and teach her how to be a vampire — how to hunt, how to feed, how to use her new speed and strength to her advantage. He did it once, twice, and then stopped. Elijah is certain they must've gotten into a fight, but neither of them would confirm or deny it. After sharing a bed for a few weeks, they retired each to their own corner and there they've remained. Now, Caroline has taken to going out on her own, to the Bayou. She says she's teaching herself how to be a vampire, but when Elijah offered to accompany her, she refused. "I need to breathe, Elijah. Just let me be."

As much as he can sympathize with the feeling, he’s still concerned. Every time Caroline steps outside, werewolves follow. The Guerreras banned every single vampire from the French Quarter, with two exceptions: himself and Caroline. They made it seem as though they were being gracious, but Elijah is not naive as to believe that appalling excuse. They want to keep a close eye on them. It's best that they know what they're up to than not, and what better way to do that than to isolate their family from any possible allies and surround them with hostile surveillance?

And then there's the other issue — the more immediate life and death one. The one weapon that can kill an Original, the last remaining white oak stake, went missing from the compound during the chaos of battle. They have no idea who's taken it, but they can assume it was Francesca and her wolves. Which means — any misstep on their part won't just end with Niklaus having to suffer longer from having his energy drained every full moon, but with one of them — and, consequently, every vampire they've ever turned, which includes not only Marcel Gerard but all of Caroline's friends back in Mystic Falls — dead.

To say their family currently finds themselves in quite a predicament is the understatement of the century. Many problems and not nearly enough valid solutions. But today, at last, Elijah has some good news to share. It's not by far a definitive answer, but it is a start. One that allows them to finally begin plotting their next moves.

If only Niklaus wasn't in one of his moods...

Personally, Elijah prefers it when he's in his quiet mode: sulking in silence, retired into the pensive loneliness of his bourbon. It's when he explodes that it really gets on his nerves. Every few days, after harboring enough foul feelings inside of him to intoxicate his mind — and not seeing enough of Caroline around the house — he pours it all out in the form of a tantrum. It's usually through painting, but often also through destroying things. Sometimes, like right now, he'll also play Mozart at the highest volume to try and mask out his angry howls. Not that it ever works. The music just seems to rile him up further.

As they are but for a few days from the next full moon — the fourth since the night it all went down —, he's not only feeling the by now familiar sickness and apprehension, his temper is also flaring more hotly than normal. All in all, it is hardly a moment Elijah would choose to address any real problems or discuss anything of effect with his brother, but in this case he doesn't really have a choice. It's far too important to wait for Klaus' mind to clear.

He wishes Caroline were home to join them, but alas... She's spent the night in the Bayou, at her old cabin. It's the third time this week. If he didn't know better, he'd say she's turned into a werewolf, not a vampire.

As he follows the sound of the music coming from the second floor, he considers the situation again. He's just returning from the docks, where he had a pleasant meeting with a few of Francesca's men. Elijah’s been meddling in many of her businesses lately, having weaseled his way into the city's historic and preservation societies through one of his foundations. If he cannot exert control through traditional means — that is, by force —, then he has to find some creative alternatives. Money is usually the quickest route towards having a voice within governing bodies and, luckily, that is the one thing, along with spitefulness, that his family happens to have in heaps.

So far, he's met with Francesca’s brothers and many — if not all — of her closest associates, but not with the woman herself. Much like Niklaus, she's become rather reclusive, and that simply eludes all reason. Just as she finally gets a revenge decades in the making, takes over the reins of the city and achieves a level of power she's never had before, she goes into hiding? Something feels amiss there.

Elijah got word that she was trying to buy one of the city's original foundries — an abandoned building that is frankly ready to be demolished. But if Francesca wants it, whatever the reason, then Elijah simply doesn't want her to have it. A bit of charm and the promise of some signed checks was all it took for the city council to allow him to personally deal with the prospective buyers. He called the preservation act of 1966 to keep the sale from going through, claiming his foundation had a vested interest in keeping the building and its ancient bloomery forge protected. The pleasure of seeing the downward curve on those wolves' lips as they realized they'd been outwitted was a personal — however small — victory, but not the only reason why Elijah was so keen on attending that particular encounter. He had a feeling he'd find something he'd been desperately seeking for a while. And he was right.

He'd be far more excited about it if his brother's music wasn't castigating the delicate sensibilities of his super hearing, though. Only Niklaus can make Mozart sound like a punishment.

He finds Klaus bent over his canvases, ripping them apart. Now he won't even bother painting before destroying it; he saves himself the trouble by attacking the blank ones. Such a waste of perfectly good material...

"I suppose we shall have to call this your white period," Elijah muses as he picks up one of the canvases his brother has thrashed and puts it up against the wall.

"I'm missing a crucial color in my palette," Klaus grunts. "That of my enemies' blood."

"Well, I recommend a Venetian red with a dash of rust, maybe."

"It's been months!" he snaps, swiveling around to face Elijah. "I've adhered to our plan — sit and do nothing, sell our grief. Now my child is safely away, no one suspects a thing and another full moon is upon us, another night of pathetic weakness." Klaus lets out a deep, dejected breath. "Elijah... This inertia is killing me. I need to act. I - I need... I need to spill blood."

Niklaus' eyes burn into Elijah's with a feverish Intent, verging on despair. It's when he starts to stutter and sound pleading that you know something is decidedly wrong with him.

"Then you'll be pleased to know that I have finally done it." The corner of Elijah's lips curl into a tiny grin almost involuntarily. It took him four months, but he has indeed cleared the first step on their route to recovering his niece. "I've located the last of the twelve enchanted rings that were forged with your blood."

A smile breaks onto his brother's face, so big it's like it'll split him in two. "Then it's time."

"And none too soon. I do, however, have some... concerns." Elijah makes a pause. "About Caroline."

Just like that, the smile slides off Niklaus' face as swiftly as it appeared, the flicker of excitement extinguished as he turns his back to Elijah and starts picking up the remnants of his latest tantrum. "She looks well enough," he grumbles.

"She looks no better than you, brother. And you obviously know that. The two of you seemed to be on good terms and now you treat each other as no more than passing acquaintances. When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"Caroline doesn't need me. She has you to offer all the assistance she needs."

"Are we back at this, Niklaus?" he asks with a hint of impatience. Elijah is done with being at the end of his brother's fickle accusations. He did not remove himself from the race and worked tirelessly to have them reunited just to find himself exactly where he was five months ago. "You do realize I'm not talking about _assistance_ here, don't you? But since you've mentioned — even that you fail to provide."

"She doesn't _want_ my help," he says bitterly, but with a clear undercurrent of sadness. "I can't help her. So maybe you should try."

Elijah sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. To anyone else, Niklaus' behavior would be dismissive and repulsively egotistical, seeing as the woman he's talking about has recently undergone a most traumatic event and deserves all the attention in the world. But he knows his brother way too well to take his snappish tone for face value. He is hurting, just as much as Caroline, and not only because of his diminished strength and the delay in recovering the rings and putting the perpetrators of last spring's crimes to justice. He feels guilty still. Amongst his brother’s many flaws, his inaptitude at making amends is perhaps the oldest and most glaring.

"Sadly..." Elijah begins. "Like the father of her child, she seems to prefer to fight her demons alone."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline wants to spill blood.

That's not a craving she's ever had before in her life, but it's one that she’s been stuck with for months now. And it's not just about feeding — although it is about feeding, too; but it's also about really _spilling_ blood. And not just any blood either, but that of her enemies, the ones who would dare to hurt her daughter, the ones who would try to kill her, the ones who stood by and did nothing while a bunch of witches threatened to sacrifice an innocent baby.

So, basically, the entire population of the French Quarter.

That need for violence has been rushing under her skin like a persistent itch. Always there, at the corner of her perception, ready to burst into life. When it doesn't plague her with nightmares, it keeps her awake at night. And it never, ever goes away. Not even when she feeds. She wonders if this is what being a monster is like, what vampires have to live with 24 hours a day. This sensation that there's a second being cohabitating her body, desperate to come out, threatening to take over at any minute. It's a constant struggle, and one that leaves her breathless and exhausted even though she is physically incapable of tiring.

Shortly after completing transition, Caroline dared to feel, if not cheerful, at least hopeful. She really did think she could do this. Of course she wasn't expecting that turning into a vampire would be a walk in the park, but there was a clear purpose there, and one she decided to hold on to with every fiber of her being: getting her daughter back. For that, she'd have to learn how to navigate her new form, how to settle into a life that was the complete opposite of everything she'd ever known before and get ready to fight. Klaus would be there for her every step of the way, and so would Elijah. With their support, she knew she could do anything, overcome whatever hardships mounted in her path. She would be invincible.

Four months later and it's safe to say reality wasn't quite as forgiving.

Wherever Caroline went, gossip followed. _Oh, look... It's that woman who lost her baby... Poor thing... Doesn't she look thin? Doesn't she look sick? Doesn't she look heartbroken?_ As if the pity wasn't bad enough, the follow-up comments twisted the knife further. _But she's still so young. She'll be trying for more children soon enough._ If only they knew...

She'll stay young forever, but never allowed to try for more children and cursed with the ability to hear what everyone whispers about her whenever she walks into a room.

But those are strangers, people who only ever knew Caroline as _that lady who lost the baby_. However annoying they might be, she doesn't really care about any of them. What sets her teeth on edge is that the ones she does care about aren't much better.

Elijah treats her like she's made of crystal, looks at her as though she'll shatter at any second. He's desperate for her to get back to normal, to start acting like her old self so she can resume her place as the family's official do-gooder. Caroline always knew that she represented something for him — a beacon of light, of hope, of righteousness. The one he's got now is an out-of-control, temperamental, blood-thirsty shadow of her old self, and she cannot stand the eagerness and the compassion in Elijah's eyes, the silent apologies, the questions he never dares to voice out. _Are you ok? How can I make you ok? What can I do? Tell me what to do_.

He means well, it just... Doesn't help at all. In fact, it just makes it all worse.

And then there's Klaus...

At the very early days, things were fine. Or as fine as they'd ever be at that stage. They were both hurt and heartbroken, but they had each other and they were striving forward the best way they could. Klaus got her a daylight ring, took her out a couple of times to try and teach her how to feed without making a scene. Caroline wasn't really looking forward to that and refused for as long as she could, not at all confident about being so close to pulsing, living arteries. Eventually, she complied. At some point she'd have to figure it out anyway, and it was probably for the best that she learned how _not_ to kill in case she ever found herself in desperate need to feed.

Early classes weren't very promising: she very nearly killed her first victims. Klaus had to peel her away from them and feed them blood so they'd heal. Nothing in this world — not her principles or the pep talk she got from both Klaus and Elijah — could've prepared her for that one perfect moment when she first felt the taste of warm blood. The second she sank her teeth into a man's neck, Caroline exploded with euphoria. The sensation was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It was exhilaration and adrenaline and arousal, all mashed into one and coursing through her in a dizzying rush. No blood bag could ever, ever compare. The more she drank, the more she wanted, and all her concerns over hurting someone completely slipped her mind. It was so easy to get lost in that instant... To let the monster take over and feel nothing but joy and pleasure, with none of the guilt or the fear to tarnish it. As soon as she let go, though, the man dropped to the ground in an ungraceful heap, and the horror hit her full force.

This is what she was now. A hunter. A predator. And the whole wide world was her all-you-can-eat buffet. Hurting people didn't feel nearly as bad or as wrong as it did before, didn't register with the same kind of impact. Something inside of her had shifted, her moral compass no longer pointing to the same north.

She used compulsion to make the man stand still, told him not to fear, not to scream, and then made him forget all about it, sent him on his way as though nothing had happened, and it felt like a mercy. Caroline's skin crawled. It made her sick, disgusted of herself. In some far corner of her mind she realized that if she were to survive this, if she were to make it as a vampire, she'd have to learn how to do all these things to perfection — compulsion, hunting, feeding, knowing when to stop before she sucked someone dry. But the realization felt like dying all over again. She wonders if there will ever come a day when she won't feel this broken or _wrong_ anymore... If she'll ever feel like her old self.

There was a brief moment there, right at the beginning, when she thought she did. When she was with Klaus. But then he started spiraling as they approached the full moon, and Caroline started losing it as well, and with no one to hold them together anymore, they both fell hard into their own dark pits. There was a lot of fighting, a lot of disagreeing, and then there was nothing. Just angry, loaded silences. Klaus retreated into the manic chaos of his painting, while Caroline sought comfort in the quietness of the Bayou.

Although quietness is probably not the best word. The silence is deafening, overwhelming, haunting. It's really... Dead. Many werewolves have decided to join the witches, a handful of Crescents included. The ones that didn't, have completely vanished. Some, she's been told, have relocated to other states, in search of other friendly packs. Some have disappeared into the deep Bayou, Jackson among them. Oliver and some of the Guerreras captured him, tried to force him to submit to Francesca, recognize her as their alpha. When he refused, they beat him to a pulp and left him for dead. No one really knows what happened next. By the time Caroline was in any condition to try and find him, he was long gone. Either he took off with the rest of his pack, or... Well, she doesn't really like to entertain the alternative.

What was a lively, rich camp four months ago, bustling with people and plans and families, is now completely deserted. Abandoned tents, belongings, cabins... It's become a ghost town again, much like it was when she first arrived in New Orleans. A reminder of all the people whose lives Caroline's mistakes have affected.

There's nothing _peaceful_ about being out here in the wilderness. Not for her. But it helps to keep her focused. She feeds on animals to sharpen her hunting skills and practice control. Many end up dead. Lately, she's gotten better at it. It's _awful_ compared to human blood, even cold from a bag, and she knows what Klaus would say if he knew she's been eating bunnies and deers, but at least she's doing _something_ — and feeding her bottomless appetite while at it.

The wait is killing her. She doesn't want to be mad at Klaus and Elijah because, deep down, she knows they're doing what they can. Well, Elijah is. Klaus is not of much help, his own capabilities considerably hindered. But understanding something in an abstract level doesn't mean she finds any solace in it. The longer it takes for them to go after the people who caused all this, the more restless Caroline grows. It's like walking around with a scream constantly lodged in her throat at all times, afraid it might come out whenever she opens her mouth. Sometimes it does. Her anger has become this living, breathing thing inside of her, inexhaustible and all-consuming, urging her to jump head-first into the darkness.

There's a medicine for all that, though, and Caroline knows exactly what she needs to quiet down the beast and make herself better: to spill the blood of her enemies.

It takes everything in her not to lunge at her Guerrera stalkers. Every time she leaves the compound, they're right behind, only giving up the chase once she crosses into the Bayou, maybe because they know this is still hostile territory to them. Caroline stops, takes a deep breath, bites on the inside of her lips and forces her legs to keep moving forward. _It's not time yet, not time yet..._ she reminds herself, as does Elijah, often. "We can only act once we know exactly what to do. If we attack before we know where to find all the twelve rings or where they keep the white oak stake, we risk extermination." _Yeah, yeah, yeah_ . She knows all that by heart now, it's just... _Hard_. And some days are worse than others.

Like this day, for instance. Four months exactly since she died. Since her daughter was taken away. Klaus was in one of his _insufferable_ moods, his music pounding in her ears while he thrashed his studio. It made Caroline want to sink her teeth into _him_. So she stepped out to go exorcise some of her demons through feeding on poor innocent doe-eyed animals and ended up staying the whole night.

So when her phone starts buzzing in her pocket, she doesn't even have to look to know it'll be Elijah. He's the one who keeps tabs on her whereabouts. Klaus gets mad if he realizes she spent the night out, but he's way too trapped inside his own head to do anything about it. She lets the call go to voicemail, not anticipating the scolding she'll probably get.

A minute goes by, and then her phone dings again, this time a text message. _You're needed at the compound_ — from _Klaus_ . Caroline frowns; now, _this_ piques her interest... If Elijah called and now he's texting, something must've happened. Something big.

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They don't get many visitors these days. Most of the people who would dare come into the compound have been banned from the French Quarter — the lucky ones, anyway. The rest has been simply murdered. The Mikaelsons never had many admirers in the Crescent City — respected, yes; feared, definitely; but not _admired_ — now, however... Those numbers have considerably shrunken.

When Elijah sees Camille entering the building, nervously fixing her bag strap on her shoulder as she looks around the place, he sighs. She should not be here, especially not today.

She has been warned of the risks of associating herself to their family. Francesca Correa already had her eyes set on Camille before; if she's seen as a close friend of the Mikaelsons, she'll find herself listed amongst the most _immediate threats_. The way they are right now, a family in shambles, there's very little they'll be able to do to protect her. They can hardly protect themselves.

The day Caroline finally told Camille the truth about that night four months ago, when she revealed the fact that her child hadn't been the only casualty, she also told her friend to stay away. Camille had been coming over almost every day, always with a different version of what she called _comfort food_. Caroline was not without sympathy — she'd done something similar when Camille's uncle died, she said; she was just trying to be a good friend and repay the kindness. But she refused to see her anyway, terrified of eating her friend instead of the gumbo. "My idea of comfort food is not what it used to be anymore."

"Do you understand why you can't come here anymore?" she asked Cami. "It's not just because of Francesca. It's because of _me_ . I see you and all I can think is how much I want to sink my teeth into your neck, Cami, and I would never be able to live with myself if I hurt you. So _please_... Don't come anymore. It's not safe to be around me."

Elijah thinks the situation was hardly this dramatic — not like Caroline would jump Camille at any second and bleed her dry. She was exaggerating to get her point across. The idea of being a hazard to the people she cares about is one that drives Caroline insane with worry. Losing control, not being in charge of her own actions, having primal instincts that she doesn't fully comprehend yet, scares her. It broke her heart to push away the only friend she still had left in the city outside of their family, even more so to admit that she was afraid of herself, of what she'd become, but she was merely trying to protect Camille. The further away she stayed from them, the safer she would be.

Which is why Caroline would be _furious_ if she saw Camille here right now.

"Caroline?" the other blonde calls out, waiting to hear a response. "Klaus?"

Elijah stays in the shadows, hoping that she'll give up and go away - she’s fully aware that everyone in that house has super hearing; if they wanted to speak to her, they'd come out.

"Caroline?" she tries again, making her way to the second floor. she's stubborn, that one. Smart, yes, but remarkably courageous for a human. He does not mean that as a compliment. "I know you asked me not to come by anymore, but we need to talk. Caroline? You there?"

"She is not here." Camille jumps out of her skin when Elijah materializes behind her.

"Elijah," she breathes out, one hand on her chest as her heart pounds manically. She was about to head in the direction of Niklaus' room. His brother is... Well, not in the mood to entertain, so to speak. "Where did you come from?"

"I beg your pardon. Aren't you the one trespassing?"

Camille shifts nervously from one foot to the other. Frankly, Elijah doesn't appreciate being this curt with her, but the less welcome she feels, the less likely she'll be to return. Considering they're about to start plotting their next steps, she really should keep her distance, lest she ends up yet another sad collateral damage in this pointless war. Caroline would never forgive herself.

"You said Caroline is not home," she speaks after a moment.

"She isn't."

"Well, where is she? I called, but she wasn't answering."

Elijah shrugs, schooling his face as to not betray his own dissatisfaction with Caroline's constant disappearances. She didn't answer his call either. "Who knows?"

"What about Klaus?"

"My brother doesn't care much for conversation these days, Camille. And neither of them would care for the fact that you put yourself in danger by coming here."

"I'm already in danger," she retorts with heat. "I have Guerreras following me like it's a police state. The city's being run by gangsters and you guys aren't doing anything about it."

Elijah cocks her an eyebrow. "You came all the way here to tell us that we should be protecting this city? Against _gangsters_?"

"No. I came all the way here to see a friend who I miss very much. And to remind you that Marcel took the Guerreras out a hundred years ago without any help from you. So maybe you should think about asking him to lend a hand. He'd be up for it."

Elijah regards her pensively for a second before motioning towards the exit. "Thank you for coming, Camille. I'll let Caroline know you stopped by."

She shakes her head before stomping past Elijah. Just before she goes down the stairs, however, she stops, turns back with her chin jutted forward, as though bracing herself for courage to talk back at him. "I know your family is grieving, but I also know you don't believe those rumors that Marcel killed the baby. So if you want help taking down the Guerreras, you have a weapon across the river just waiting to be fired. Use it."

A tiny smile creeps up his lips almost involuntarily as she finally turns her back to him and marches out of the compound. It's no wonder she got along so well with Caroline... The righteous indignation, the outrage at being managed, the way she purses her lips and stares him down with fire in her eyes despite all the disadvantages...

"It's uncanny, isn't it?" he remarks when he senses Niklaus standing next to him.

"She needs to stay out of this."

"Somehow, I doubt she will." _Caroline wouldn't_ , he doesn’t add. "I do like her spirit, though."

"People with _spirit_ tend to end up dead in this city." Klaus disappears into his room, reemerging a moment later, shrugging on his jacket.

Elijah frowns. "Tonight is a full moon," he says.

Klaus glowers at him while he fixes his collar, the pronounced shadows under his eyes clear evidence that he's very much aware of that.

"Where are you going?"

"You heard her. I'll go pay a visit to an old friend across the river."

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The little calm Caroline had managed to cling to after spending an entire night out in the Bayou evaporates almost as soon as she returns to the compound. As she goes up to her room, ready to take a long, hot shower before facing whatever family emergency had Klaus coming out of his cage to get in touch with her, she realizes there's someone in the nursery. Elijah is apparently boxing up all of her daughter's things.

"What are you doing?" she demands, already feeling the by now familiar vampire temper rearing its head inside of her.

"Welcome back," he replies, in an even but rather stilted manner. "What is it, third time this week?"

"I wasn't aware that I needed caretakers. Vampires are invincible, right?"

"Not with Guerrera wolves going around wearing moonlight rings whilst actively hunting those vampires."

"Yes, well, I have diplomatic immunity." She advances into the room, snatching away from him the piece of the crib he'd just disassembled. " _What_ are you doing, Elijah?"

"As we discussed, our illusion needs to be flawless. Now months have passed. It's the appropriate time."

Caroline feels her blood turning to lava in her veins at the matter-of-fact, calculating tone of his voice. Like all there is to this is a plan. Like this room isn't everything that's left of her baby, the only evidence that she ever existed.

"Educate me, Elijah. What's next on the appropriate list?" she asks, voice drenched in venom as she fixes him with a hard stare. "Klaus and I hold our heads up high and say we're ready to try again?"

He lets out a patient sigh, his expression smoothing into a softer one — that damned _compassion_ that makes Caroline's skin crawl. "I understand this is difficult for you -"

"What's _difficult_ for me is knowing that woman is still breathing after she plotted with the witches to kill my daughter and all you expect from me is to put up a good show. I can assure you there is nothing _fake_ about my anger and my mourning."

"You will have your vengeance, Caroline, I promise you this."

"I was promised that four months ago. Until you're ready to deliver on your promises, this is _my_ room. I will let you know when it's appropriate to clean it out." She folds her arms across her chest, her mouth set as she steps aside, indicating that he should leave.

Elijah looks at her like he wants to say something, but decides against it. "Niklaus went to see Marcellus," he speaks from the door. "We'll need to have a family reunion when he returns. It seems like you might be able to have your revenge, at last."

As he disappears from sight, Caroline finally lets out a sharp, deep exhale, her anxiety skyrocketing. Luckily, he hadn't put much away yet. If she hadn't found him trying to pack up her baby's things as though Eve were truly dead, she might've even felt more excited about the last bit of information, but the irritation trumps everything else.

This room being kept exactly as it is has been her only silver lining for the past few months, the only reason she's kept herself moderately sane. It reminds her of the higher purpose. The moment it is no longer here, it means she has given up on Eve. That she's accepted she'll never get to see her daughter grow up. That she will never be more than a complete stranger in her life.

Caroline simply doesn't think she can live with herself if she allows for that to sink in. She doesn't know how anybody can.

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It has been such a long time since Klaus felt anything other than burning rage and frustration that he'd forgotten what it was like to be in a good mood. Or some semblance of that, anyway. Granted, he still feels dreadfully ill, every muscle in his body screaming with a type of exhaustion that should not be possible to a creature such as him, but for once there's a positive note to it. The worse he feels, the closer they are to the full moon's apex. And the closer to the full moon's apex...

He smiles to himself. Something else he'd forgotten how to do.

After months, ages, _eons_ waiting and withering away in misery and weakness, he finally has something to look forward to on the near horizon. He should remember to give Camille a generous tip when this is all over; it was her stubbornness, trespassing when she'd been directly told not to do it, which prompted Klaus to pay Marcel a visit in Algiers. It proved immensely fruitful.

"We have the Guerreras exactly where we want them," he says, pacing around the dining room as he goes over the devised plan with Elijah and Caroline. His brother makes no attempts to disguise his doubtfulness, while Caroline listens with rapt attention, but betraying no emotion. “We have them waiting, we have them worried and now we know they're an army with no defenses against an Original."

"How do we know that?" Elijah questions.

"Think about it, brother. We know our reasons for not making a move on them all these months. But what, pray tell, is theirs?"

Elijah considers the matter for a second, his eyes narrowing once he comes to the obvious conclusion. "You think they don't have the stake."

Klaus purses his lips, shrugging. "If they did, why didn't they use it? Why has Francesca kept herself hidden all this time?"

"I'll concede that you make a good point, Niklaus, but we still can't know for certain."

"I'm willing to gamble."

"It's too risky. The stake didn't just disappear. The fact remains that _someone_ has it."

"One enemy at a time, Elijah. In the end, we'll slay them all, but unless we start by slaying the Guerreras first..." As if on cue, Klaus feels a stabbing pain in his stomach, his vision blurring. He sits down, holding on to the edge of the table not to lose his balance. All day he's been feeling lethargic and sick, and as nightfall approaches, he can feel his strength slowly ebbing away. It's nothing compared to what will happen once the moon hits its apex, but it is more than enough to leave him winded and useless in case of an attack. If it wasn't for this bit of bright news, he would be absolutely _unbearable_ right now. "Tonight," he continues. "We just have to plant the right seeds and the plan will be put in motion. But for that... We need help."

"What kind of help?" Caroline asks.

"I was introduced to a fellow named Joe, one of Marcel's old war comrades. He'd managed to escape the Guerreras' radar and had been calmly living in the Quarter until today, when he was rounded by wolves — led by Oliver." He notices the way Caroline's jaw sets, the barest twitch on her lips. The mere mention of Jackson's former sidekick makes her bristle — and with good cause. Perhaps having the opportunity to settle her scores with him is exactly what she needs right now. "Apparently Davina Claire intervened and helped him escape. Now, back in 1925, when Marcel believed he'd gotten rid of the Guerreras for good, Joe was one of his closest allies, and one of his fiercest warriors. So much so that he basically went into retirement afterward, removing himself from any further Quarter drama. Despite how utterly harmless he was, how unwilling to take sides, the wolves have now put a bounty on his head, which means Joe is looking for a swan song. He doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to move across the river... And he's willing to help us get what we need, tonight."

"Your story is mightily compelling, Niklaus, but I fail to identify a plan," Elijah objects.

"I was just getting to it. Joe will return to the Quarter, allow himself to be captured and tell the wolves that he has sensitive information to disclose in exchange for his freedom."

"And what exactly is that shiny piece of information?"

Klaus grins. "That we've lost track of the white oak stake."

"You want her to _know_ that the only weapon out there that can kill the two of you is missing?" Caroline asks in disbelief. "If you really think she doesn't have it, then isn't that just giving up your only leverage against her? She's gonna scour this entire city after it."

"That's exactly what I want her to do. Joe will tell her that we believe the stake is in her power — and it is beside the point if it isn't, because we still don't know _where_ it is. That Harvest girl, Cassie, has become very close to Francesca, spends a lot of her time at her mansion. No doubt she'll ask for a locator spell immediately — and, while Cassie attempts to locate it, Joe will serve them some other information that may set Francesca in motion right away. If she believes she can acquire the stake tonight, she'll no doubt send her best men here, to subdue me in my weakest hour. It'll be her best chance."

"That sounds like suicide to me," Caroline says. "If she captures you and then manages to get her hands on the stake, you're toast."

"She won't get to me."

"How can you be so sure? You said it yourself, it's your weakest hour. Even with me and Elijah here — they can bite us, take us down. You'll be vulnerable."

"Yes, but each ring we take back means I will get stronger. And if we manage to collect them all in a timely fashion, that ceases to be a problem. I'd say we know exactly where she'll concentrate her closest men, so if we're ready, it shouldn't be too hard."

"But we don't know where the twelve rings are," Caroline retorts, and when Klaus smiles, her so far blank expression morphs into a confused one. "Do we?"

"Elijah, please," he motions towards his brother.

"I've located the last of the twelve rings this morning," he tells her. "Four of them sit on the hands of the Guerrera brothers. One is on Oliver, one on Francesca, three with her security detail and the rest scattered amongst a few of her most trusted lackeys. I realize this girl, Cassie, has been producing new rings, but the original ones are distinguishable by its particular setting — gauche like those that wear them."

"So based on her behavior for the past few months, we can assume she is not going anywhere, sending her lackeys to do her job instead,” Klaus continues. “Her brothers will likely be staying with her at her mansion, so that makes five rings. Oliver and her security detail will most likely be the ones sent here, so we have four more rings within our reach."

"And the last ones?"

"Marcel will handle those. He'll be waiting for them. Nevertheless, each recovered ring will strengthen me, but I will still be at a considerable disadvantage during the attack."

"Ergo, for us to have any hope at succeeding at this, we will have to depend entirely upon our working together. Which means..." Elijah looks pointedly from Klaus, on one end of the table, to Caroline, who sits on the other. "The two of you can longer afford to retreat to separate corners."

Klaus casts a glance at her from beneath his lashes, feeling an altogether different kind of pang shooting across his chest. He and Caroline have drifted dramatically apart over the course of the last few months, and he feels the distance as though it was a physical barrier. It wasn't something Klaus planned, but a consequence of not knowing how to handle his own feelings and frustrations — which, if he's to be honest, should've been expected, considering his awful history.

The problem this time might have been that, if Caroline didn't feel exactly the same way, it was something remarkably close. Klaus knew he was making her miserable with his gloominess and his destructive moods. In turn, her disappointment with her own inability to navigate vampirism with the same kind of natural flair she's used to navigating absolutely everything made the lingering guilt hang heavy over his head. The fact he could do nothing to ease her pain but _wait_ was sheer torture, the sense of bitter shame threatening to overwhelm him.

The past months have made Caroline harder, colder, detached in a manner her expansive personality never quite allowed before. But the heat in her eyes remains just as scorching, a proof that she's not given in to the darkness. Deep down, beneath the new layers of pain and anger and bloodthirst, she remains just as lively and passionate as ever — all she needs is a little push to get in touch with her core again, to rediscover her beautiful, bright soul. Klaus promised her a fitting revenge and four months later he still had nothing to speak of it. Until tonight, that is. Tonight, he can finally give her what she so desperately seeks and maybe begin to make things right again.

"This is our fight," he speaks softly, looking into her eyes in a manner he hasn't done in a while. "Are you ready for battle, love?"

Caroline crosses her arms over her chest, not a hint of fear in her unflinching gaze. "Just promise me that Francesca doesn't come out of this alive."

"Her head will be delivered to you on a silver platter."

"Let's fight, then."

Klaus' lips twist up into a lopsided smirk, and he swears he sees the beginning of a smile on her face as well.

"Splendid," Elijah says, interrupting the moment. Klaus glares at him, but only briefly; they don't have time to lose. "Let's go over the details, shall we?"

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Camille flinches when one of the werewolves throws a lamp down on the floor, the glass shattering at her feet. Elijah can sense her fear, can hear the mad rhythm of her heart; he knows she's not faking the fright scribbled across her face, but still she holds herself with dignity before a mob of rabid werewolves ransacking her apartment.

"Is it not enough that I can't even go for a walk, now you have to do this?" she snaps when one of them starts pulling things out of a drawer at random.

"You know how to stop this," one of them says — the one in charge of the attack. The shiny black kyanite on his finger catches the light when he purposefully steps on the fallen lamp, breaking whatever was left of it. "Where is the stake?"

So far, everything is going exactly as planned. Marcel's friend, Joe, let it slip to Francesca that the white oak stake had last been seen in the hands of Father Kieran. The futile woman didn't hesitate before dispatching a group towards Camille's apartment.

And the brave bartender, as Niklaus once put, didn't even blink before agreeing to join the plan. "I'm in. What do I have to do?"

"Camille, I need you to understand exactly what you're getting yourself into. Those werewolves won't knock before they come in, and if they suspect, even for a second, that you're hiding something, they won't hesitate to take you out. You know Francesca is only looking for an excuse to come and search for your uncle's famed key."

"I know. And I'm looking for an excuse to make her pay for what she did to my friends. I may not be able to hit her where it hurts, but I had to be dead not to play my part in this. So, where do you need me?"

Brave bartender, indeed.

Elijah is there to interfere in case things get out of hand — if anyone dares to touch Camille, they might find themselves suddenly relieved of their fingers. There was a moment there when he was ready to charge, about to bolt through her balcony, but Camille managed to take control over the situation again. She's quite clever, making the wolves seem as though they're the ones in charge. They're all so thick-headed they don't even realize she's been smoothly pulling the strings since they broke into her place. The _Forbes_ factor is aplenty in that one.

"Fine," she relents after a moment's hesitation. "Whatever. What do I care? This is not even my problem." She takes a notepad from her coffee table and scribbles down an address — one Elijah previously informed her of. "There," she says, handing the paper over to the wolf. "That's where you'll find what you want. It's where my uncle kept all his secret supernatural stash. Now all you need is his key."

"And where is that?"

She strides across the room. "Hiding in plain sight, genius," she spits out, showing him a key dangling from a necklace that had been hanging beside the door. The man snatches it away from her, not doubting her information for a second. It's unbelievable how those people have taken charge of the city... Elijah would be more offended, if he wasn't so mortally enraged.

Camille pulls her door open and motions for them to leave, tapping her feet nervously and keeping her eyes down while, one by one, the group files out.

As soon as the last one turns the corner, Camille slams her door shut and locks it. She falls back against it as though she'd lost her balance, letting out a shuddery breath as she turns to the balcony to look for him.

Her part is over. Everything going as planned, she won't have to worry about anything, anymore. The Guerreras will be done for. Marcel will be taking care of the group she just directed towards an abandoned warehouse by the docks, where they'll be showered with warm vampire hospitality and loads of wolfsbane. Elijah could've taken them all out right here, of course, but it would take time, he might end up bitten and the focus group he is in charge of is elsewhere. Besides, it would make an even bigger mess of poor Camille's apartment. She's contributed enough for the evening.

Elijah nods to her, expressing his approval, and watches as she replies with a quick nod of her own before disappearing into the night.

His next destiny is not very far; a charming neighborhood on the northernmost part of the Quarter, where there are fewer tourists and more trees lining both sides of the street, laden with well-preserved mansions, many of which have had its eminent domain reclaimed by the city in order to protect the constructions' heritage status.

Even before Elijah approaches the Correa family’s lavish home, he can tell there's a bit of a raucous situation going on inside. Many people have been assembled, it seems, and as he finally peeks through one of the many large windows, he sees several of the werewolves he has a particular interest on are amongst the group — including Oliver.

Francesca seems antsy — pacing around, biting on her nails, deep creases on her forehead. It appears Niklaus wasn't wrong, after all; she is way too agitated for someone who allegedly possesses the upper hand.

"Klaus will be at his lowest strength for the next few hours," she tells her lackeys. "Once the white oak has been retrieved, be ready to use it. You take a group to the compound and subdue him while he's still weak," she tells Oliver.

"What about Elijah and Caroline? There's no way they leave his side tonight," he counters.

"Your bites can take care of both of them. Elijah can be weakened, Caroline can be killed."

Elijah narrows his eyes at the woman. What he wouldn't give to wrap his fingers around her neck right now and dare her to say that one more time. But no, he has other plans for Francesca. He shan't be the one to squeeze life out of her, no matter how tempted he might be. She will pay for the dismissiveness with which she talks about a woman whose life and that of her unborn child she gambled away in exchange for a few enchanted rings.

"She is strong," Oliver tells her, visibly discomfited with the order he was just given.

It seems as though there might be more than one reason why they granted Caroline permission to stay in the Quarter, after all — and why they've refrained from attacking her, despite her constant wanderings about on her own. It wasn't just a veiled threat, it was a way to keep her tame and where they could watch her. All this time, they've been afraid of Caroline, of finding out what kind of beast she became after being murdered. Perhaps they thought she was a hybrid like her daughter, like Klaus — her frequent visits to the Bayou might've tipped their suspicions.

Well, she isn't a hybrid, but Oliver is not as much of a half-wit as Elijah would've thought. He's not entirely wrong. Caroline is the closest thing to a hybrid without actually being one, having inherited an abnormal amount of strength and resilience for a vampire from the werewolf blood that turned her. Elijah is certain they're yet to understand the full scope of what she has truly become, there might be other properties they haven't realized yet. She is, after all, the first vampire in history that does not belong to any known vampire sire lines. That, in itself, makes her already unique.

"I don't care!" Francesca hisses at Oliver. "You are several, she is one. Whoever rips out her heart gets a bonus. How about that?"

Oh, if Elijah were just a tiny little bit more like his brother and less like himself...

"And where will you be?" Oliver questions, none too happily.

"Here, where it's safe. They're vampires. They can't get into the house without an invitation."

"So we risk our lives fighting Originals while you hide?"

"I am the top dog. Your job is to ensure the battle doesn't come to me. I suggest you take it to heart and don't fail, if you value that pretty little ring I put on your finger."

Oliver's face twists into a dozen different shades of anger, but he bites on his tongue as he commands his men to follow him out. Elijah can't help the awfully familiar knot of worry; they'll be heading towards the compound now. Still, he trusts Caroline will take care of this group just fine; no one is more motivated than her. Oliver should find himself in quite the predicament.

Elijah is only sorry he won't be there to witness it; his mission awaits him inside this lovely 1800s construction. He’ll do his best to preserve it, although he has a feeling it might make it into the city’s list of haunted sites by the end of the evening.

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For Klaus, painting has always been an outlet. A manner of exorcising his frustrations, a metaphor for regaining control whenever it escapes him in other aspects of his life. When he's painting, he can shut down his objective, logic thinking and get completely immerse in the chaos, allow for it to take over and dictate his creative genius — the color he uses, the brushes he picks, how he attacks the canvas. It's been like this since he was a child, even before he realized what it truly represented. In his art, Klaus finds a measure of peace, such a rare commodity to him. It's with a brush in his hand that Klaus' inadequacies are vanquished.

Of course it's not the _only_ way to work out his demons. Murder is another of his favorite leisure activities in times of crisis — the more, the merrier. When he exerts all his might and power over his victims and sees that expression of helplessness in their eyes as they beg for their lives — a perfect reflection of something he recognizes, and abhors, about himself — is when he finally sets himself free of the binds of his own fear.

Sometimes, sex has that same effect. Really good sex, of the mind-blowing variety, can be equally as fulfilling and inspiring as art. When it allows him to tap into his most primal instincts, to give in to pleasure and sensations completely, become overwhelmed with feelings other than the riot in his head... That's a bit like having a taste of heaven.

But of course sex, like murder, are a bit trickier to satisfy, requiring a level of investment he isn't always willing to put forth. Depending on the circumstances surrounding him, they're not viable options at all. Such as right now, for instance. He's too weak to really ravage the people whose bodies he so desperately wants to separate from their heads, and the one person he desires, with whom sex would be enjoyable, will barely look at him.

So art is all there is.

The dilemma lies in the fact that, at the present moment, he can't even resort to that. He feels completely drained of inspiration, devoid of that spark that drives him to sketch like a maniac in moments of despair. His frustrations have grown so monstrous they have trumped a millennium-old impetus. That's how tragic his situation is. Whilst all he sees is red, and all he breathes is rage, he simply cannot paint the color, cannot translate the bulk of his feelings into an aggressive stroke.

It is driving him mad. Or should he say, mad _er_. He's never been completely sane to begin with.

As in every other full moon for the past four months, Klaus has locked himself away in his studio and doused the worst of the pain and the shame at his own powerlessness with a generous dose of alcohol. He sits on his couch, eyes pressed shut while he drifts into that desperate state of semi-consciousness, all his energy bleeding away, diverted towards the Guerreras.

The worst part of it is that it always takes him back to that sodden church, to Caroline's terrible screams, to the blood oozing from her throat as he watched in complete despair, rendered impotent and unable to do anything to protect her. The scene plays over and over in his head, nonstop, making him sicker than the enchanted rings themselves. It was Klaus' darkest hour — which, coming from him, says a lot. When he woke up on the church floor, after having his neck broken, to find Caroline's body already cold and lifeless, he wished the witches had truly killed him.

All of a sudden, Klaus feels a strange spark in energy, a jolt rushing through him, clearing away some of the fog in his head and the heart-stopping pain in his chest. It's the tiniest of things, barely perceptible, but it's there nonetheless — and Klaus knows that one of the rings has been recovered. So it's started.

Caroline will be waiting outside for the wolves sent his way, and, as much as he wants to help her, as scared as he is that something might happen to her, he trusts that, if anyone can fight those wolves and _win_ right now, it's her. She's stronger than ever, much stronger than those sodden mongrels could ever imagine. They'll be in for a surprise...

Elijah should be at the Guerreras', while Marcel prepares to take out the ones Camille directs towards him.

Another jolt, a stronger one this time, like something snapping and a weight lifting off his chest. And soon enough more follows. More wolves killed, more rings retrieved. The stronger Klaus feels, the greater the rush is. It’s as though he's coming up for air after staying underwater for months. He is strong enough to sit up straight, stretch out his muscles, all so pitifully underused.

Six, seven rings... His senses have become sharp enough that he can hear the sounds of fighting coming from the first floor — mostly male voices yelling, shouting orders and letting out painful howls. His queen is giving them a well-deserved piece of her mind. Oh, how he wishes he could see it… The mere thought is enough to turn him on.

Klaus smiles to himself — a true and honest smile, like he hasn't been capable of in ages — as a sudden and powerful urge to _paint_ arises, a wave of inspiration crashing onto him.

Eight rings, and two men jump into his balcony, going directly towards him. Klaus reaches for his brushes, turning them over in his hands and, in one swift, precise movement, throws them at the two men like the sharpest of darts, hitting their throats. They let out a gurgly scream before falling down, blood pooling around their heads. Just the exact shade of red that had been missing from his palette.

This is going to be a fantastic night.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline wipes her blood-smeared mouth with the back of her hand as she straightens up, dropping yet another body to the ground. That's the eighth so far. Eight werewolves who will not live to see another day. Three moonlight rings recovered.

She feels _euphoric_ . The rush of adrenaline is unlike anything she's ever felt. Hunting real dangerous targets that would've easily eliminated her if she'd given them the chance is nothing like hunting bunnies in the woods. The rush is _powerful_ . She's buzzing with energy, alight with drive and exhilaration — it's almost as good as sex. _Almost_.

Still, when she looks behind her and sees the blood staining the floors and the walls of the compound, Caroline winces inwardly; she can't help the sting of conscience. As far as she can tell, none of those wolves were Crescents. She doesn't really know them aside from having them tailing her on a few of her escapades to the Bayou, but they may have been among the packs that flocked over to Jackson's camp when the news of her miracle pregnancy spread. They may have been among the people who got hurt during the explosions, who lost their homes or their hope, and decided to join the winning side rather than go back to squalor, or worse, perish. They may have been friends once. Now they're all dead.

She doesn't feel sorry for them, not exactly; they chose their own destiny when they sided with the scum of this city, and she knows they wouldn't have hesitated to kill her if they had the chance. What bothers her is that she thought she'd feel worse about this — about killing people, loads of them at once, with her own hands and her flashy new fangs. Instead, she feels... Nothing.

Despite the frenzy of the hunt and the ecstatic kind of inebriation brought from feeding directly from their veins, Caroline doesn't feel vindicated or glad that the Guerreras and those who would side with them are finally paying for their sins. There's no satisfaction, but there's also no real joy. The emptiness inside of her remains unmoved, filled neither by a sharp bite of humanity or lack thereof. It's all just one big... _nothing_.

She remembers when she killed those twelve witches in Mystic Falls to save Bonnie, inadvertently giving Silas the sacrifice he needed in order to push forward with his doomsday plans. Caroline knew that there wasn't really a choice there; if she hadn't stopped the witches, Bonnie would be dead. Klaus was pretty annoyed, but she never needed him to scold her in order to feel every bit as awful as her actions merited. She was a _wreck_.

For some reason she feels like this — the werewolves — should feel more like that — the witches. It doesn't, though. It feels nothing like it. She wonders if this is a part of her new self, an add-on that comes with her new position at the top of the food chain, or if it's a darkness that had always existed, but had never really been provoked into coming out. Caroline seems to find a different edge in herself every day now, as though she's a stranger in her own skin. Will it always be like this from now on, or will there ever come a day when she'll finally _settle_?

She catches the tiny noises of a prowler in the courtyard. There's someone she hasn't seen yet, the one she wanted to find the most. The owner of the fourth ring she has been tasked with recovering.

Caroline's pulse races, the veins around her eyes popping in anticipation as her muscles immediately tense, her hands closing into white-knuckled fists. This one provokes a real reaction in her. She sensed Ollie's stench as soon as the werewolves arrived.

He didn't just allow for her and her daughter to be taken by people he _knew_ wanted the both of them dead; he betrayed his own people. His own _pack_. Jackson has gone missing because of him, could be dead by now as far as anyone knows. Marcel has even raised suspicion that maybe he was the one who placed those bombs in the Bayou, causing Eve's death and so much pain to so many good people.

Oh, how much Caroline waited for this moment of reckoning...

"Hello, Oliver," she greets him with a cold, hard glint in her eyes when he turns a corner and stops dead on his tracks upon finding her. "Just the man I wanted to see."

Honestly, she expected this to offer a little more excitement...

Maybe it's the fact that she's way more motivated than him, or maybe it really is that she's just an altogether stronger, faster and more resilient vampire than the ordinary type because of her daughter's werewolf blood, but Caroline doesn't even have to push to the edges of her limits to give Oliver the beating of a lifetime. He really is all bark and no bite; for someone of his smugness and self-entitlement, he throws a punch like a little kid — pun intended. Caroline is almost a head taller and way too driven for him to even find enough time to react.

She punches his face until she hears bones cracking, until he can't even push himself up anymore and blood is cascading down his nose. Every time he attempts to launch at her, she simply dodges out of his way, kicking him into a wall, against a garden table, sends him flying across the courtyard, crashing into the fountain. He does hit her a few times too, and it hurts, but she doesn't let it hinder her, doesn't allow him to gain momentum, and soon enough the scratches and bruises are all healed up and she feels nothing anymore but this rabid desire to _hurt_ him.

Caroline only stops when she realizes she's grunting like a maniac while she punches him into the ground, grinding her teeth with such strength she might break them at any moment. He's not even attempting to respond anymore, the only signs he's still alive being his pathetic, painful moans.

She could finish him off so easily right now... Rip out his heart, cut off his head, shove wolfsbane down his throat and then slit it open like the witches did to her. Instead, Caroline stands to her feet, stepping away from him, trying to regain some composure while her breath steadies. She brushes the hair off her face and looks down at her hands, covered in Oliver's blood.

"You think that ring you wear makes you strong?" she snarls at him. "You're nothing. Jackson was strong, and brave, and _loyal_ , all things that you will never be. You were stronger together, as a pack, and you ruined it. You're not a wolf, Oliver, you're a selfish fucking rat." She crouches down beside him, snatching the ring off his finger none too gently. He lets out a loud yelp. "This was for Jackson, for Rebekah, for Eve and for myself and my daughter. Everyone whose lives you helped to destroy. I could kill you with a finger right now, but I won't. Not because you don't deserve it, but because Jackson almost gave his life to save your sorry ass. You were a brother to him. So thank him for keeping your miserable life today. Think about everything you sacrificed in order to get more power, and remember that _I_ took it from you. And if I see you wearing one of these again," she shoves the ring in his face, although she doubts he can see anything, the way his eyes are all swollen. "I will kill you myself."

Caroline puts the ring in her pocket, alongside the three others, and stands up again. "Get the hell out of my house. And take your buddies with you."

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Mobsters suffer from such hubris...

Al Capone thought himself invincible back in his day. He was powerful, famous, had friends in all the high places and spent years getting away with doing all sorts of nasty businesses. In the end, he was sentenced to the wretched filth of Alcatraz for a simple, almost innocent failure to pay his taxes. One would think people with Capone's level of ambition and his same sordid history would've learned from his mistakes, taken his example to heart... One would be wrong. And Elijah is quite glad for it.

Francesca Correa thought that walling herself in behind her minions and refusing to leave the comfort of her home would keep her safe from angry vampires or particularly vindictive Originals. After all, if everything else failed, they'd still not be able to enter her house without a formal invitation — which none of her enemies would ever get.

Disregarding the utter simplicity of the thought — when has a door ever stopped Elijah from getting anything? There are countless ways to lure rats out of their hiding places and Francesca's lack of imagination is, in all honesty, not only painful but actually offensive to someone like him — the fact she failed to consider the obvious flaws in her own plan is just astounding. Elijah could've simply set fire to her mansion, but it would've been a crime to destroy such a beautiful construction. Not worth it for someone like Miss Correa and her ignorant brothers.

Instead, Elijah used something he'd been flaunting at the Guerreras' faces just to thwart their every attempt to grow their nefarious businesses in town for quite a number of months: his charm and bottomless bank account to pay off the right people at the Mayor's Office. The irony of him using their very own gangster tactics against them is rather poetic. In the end, they'd been walling themselves in like maniacs against the Mikaelsons’ substantial supernatural strengths, but Elijah never had to gather an army or build a Hollywoodian trap in order to weed the Guerrera werewolves once and for all from New Orleans' grounds.

Elijah's suggestion that the city should invoke eminent domain over the Correa's formidable home as a way to guarantee its heritage status was well appreciated by the Mayor's office. Which meant, despite the appropriate financial compensations to which they would be entitled to if any of them had survived the unfortunate _gang_ violence of this evening to reclaim it, the house, technically, no longer belonged to them, but to the public. Elijah never needed an invitation, after all.

Such paranoia, such little care...

When he returns to the compound, four rings dangling in his pockets, he finds the place littered with werewolf bodies. He is a little stricken by the brutality of the murders; Caroline was in quite the mood, indeed... And the best was saved for last. She's not yet done for the night.

Considering the state of things, Elijah assumes she took down every last one of the poor souls Francesca sent to _subdue_ his brother — all but one, that is. Oliver's body is nowhere to be found. He wonders if he managed to slip away, or if Caroline was feeling merciful after murdering so many of his companions. She's been angry and rightfully thirsty for revenge, but she's still not the monster he and his brother are, no matter what she might think herself.

Personally, Elijah hopes she has finished him off elsewhere. He could never quite stand that man, anyway. But if she didn't... Well, there's always a next time.

One thing is for certain, though: it will be laborious to get the compound clean of all this mess. They really need to stop thrashing their own home like this. It's so counter-productive...

He was wondering in what sort of disposition he would find Niklaus by the time he got home and is not surprised to see him hunched over a canvas on the floor, wetting his brush in the pool of bright, red blood gushing from a man's throat, painting as though he's been struck by the inspiration lightning after months of a dry spell. It's a crass picture, to be honest, but then he expects Niklaus' appetite for gore has been renewed tonight.

"How very Jackson Pollock of you," he says from the door, grabbing a piece of cloth to clean his own red-stained hands.

"I'm still not at full strength," he replies, not bothering to look up. "Which of the rings are unaccounted for?"

"Just the one. I must say, the Guerrera brothers fought valiantly... Before their sister escaped."

Klaus stops, swivels his head around, a hard look in his eyes. "You let her get away?"

A mischievous lopsided smile kicks the corner of Elijah's mouth. "Not exactly," he says.

Francesca thinks she's escaped, that she managed to slip away unnoticed while Elijah took care of her brothers, that the worst is behind her and she'll get to start over elsewhere, with the black kyanite sparkling on her finger and an infinite net of crooks and scums to support her on her next enterprise. She'll allow herself to relax, take a deep breath, start to think of her next steps: where to go, who to call first. And just when she thinks she's safe, that she got away with all the horridness she spent four months reveling in...

Well… Miss Correa will be in for quite a surprise on the road.

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If there's one thing a thousand years on this earth has taught Klaus is that every storm, no matter how ominous or how devastating, comes to an invariable end. It might take months, sometimes even years; it might leave an endless trail of destruction and death in its wake; it might force unwanted and uncomfortable changes. But it ends. Rain will stop, clouds will part and the sun will shine again.

The outcome of the Guerreras' storm was particularly harrowing due to the uniqueness of the circumstances surrounding it. The Mikaelsons had never quite had so much to lose before, not in a thousand years. And they almost did lose it all; it was close, too close for comfort, or for their egos and prides to come out perfectly preserved. It hurt, how low they fell, how little was left of their dignity.

Getting back up was not easy. It took much longer than Klaus could've ever imagined to find their way around this nastiness, and even now it's not completely over. While they were forced to lay low and stay out of the spotlight, the witches grew in power, and he realizes now that most of the werewolves were never truly answering to Francesca, after all. She had twelve of them who were loyal to her — the original twelve, whose rings stole directly from his power. But her alliance with the witches was a farce, a mere smoke screen to shield away the witches from the public eye while they grew in influence. Their coven regrouped, solidified and started distributing moonlight rings to any wolf who would swear them fealty. Francesca Correa was but an ornament; she's gone, and many of her men are dead, but the wolves remain in New Orleans, armed with their kyanite stones, and bowing down to a most unexpected figure: the fourth Harvest girl, Cassie. The one who came back from the dead with the secret to forging moonlight rings, no doubt received directly from mother dearest during her stay on the Other Side with her ancestors.

They still need to dismantle this new alliance, weaken the witches by regaining control over the wolves, perhaps killing a handful of them, just to wash out some more of the frustrations harbored over the course of the last four months and send a warning. But as with all the storms they'd weathered before, this one too has finally started to break.

Klaus feels a new man now that no one else is wearing the rings draining from his power. A million pounds lighter. His mind is clearer, his muscles are more relaxed, even his appetite has been restored. He spent hours painting — some of his best work in ages, if he may say so himself — and, once he was done, he made a beeline to their blood stash. It's most unfortunate that he was so busy with the sudden resurfacing of his muse that he couldn't even enjoy the marvelous buffet at his disposal at the compound. No matter. He can always step out for a bit of a snack later; in fact, for the first time in ages Klaus actually _feels_ like going outside to enjoy the evening. Perhaps he should stop by Rousseau's to have a drink or two, leave Camille a generous tip for her contributions to their success.

Elijah has taken to the library to investigate the appropriate manner to destroy those enchanted stones, thus making sure it'll never fall into the wrong hands, ever again. Now all there is to do is wait for Caroline to come home from her little expedition to make sure she's all right and -

Klaus' line of thought is interrupted while he finishes a glass of AB+ by a loud _crash_ coming from somewhere down the hall. He straightens his posture, straining to hear; maybe one of the werewolves they thought dead survived and is now attempting to escape, maybe someone has come seeking revenge. But it does not sound like a fight, though... Just... Things being thrown around, falling to the ground, crashing.

He puts down his glass and follows the noise all the way to Caroline's room, his heartbeat picking up as he realizes it's coming from the nursery.

It's no werewolf, though, not even an enemy. He didn't hear her arrival, thought she was still on the road, making her way back to the Quarter. But not only is Caroline home, she's also not in the blithe mood he expected she would be after finishing off the woman responsible for every horrible thing that happened last spring.

She's taking the baby room apart, ripping paintings from the wall, breaking off pieces of the furniture, grunting furiously as she does so, in an enraged tantrum that mirrors many he's had himself in the past few months. It stuns Klaus for a moment, however intimate he might be with the kind of rage that fuels this sort of need for destruction. It's completely unexpected. He's never seen Caroline like this before. Ever.

"Caroline," he recovers quickly, snapping out of his shock and primly advancing towards her before the damage to the room is irreversible. She seems not to pay any attention to him, though, so he gently takes her hands. "Caroline," he tries again, more incisively, and she finally stops, breathing raggedly through her mouth, her eyes alight with fury and rimmed with tears as she meets his gaze. "Please, love."

Caroline shoves him away, takes a step back, burying her hands in her hair. "I killed her," she splutters. "Francesca looked me in the eye and begged me for her life and I tore her apart — with my _teeth_. I drank every last drop of blood in her body and then I left her there to rot and be eaten by animals."

Caroline's arms fall next to her body as she lets out a deep, weary breath, as though all her energy has suddenly left her. "It's what I've wanted to do for months. I dreamt of this moment almost every night. I thought this is what I needed to fix myself, to find... Peace. I had to get rid of her, to make her pay." She shakes her head, her voice growing scratchy and rich with raw emotion. "But I don't feel better. I don't feel _anything_!"

"It's perfectly natural for you to feel this way, given what you've experienced," he offers kindly.

" _Nothing_ about what I am is natural, Klaus!"

"As a vampire, you experience feelings with greater intensity. It's not just your senses that get heightened, your emotions spike just as easily as your hunger. It will take time for you to master control."

"So _now_ you want to teach me how crappy I'm going to feel all the time? How much of a fucking mess I am?" she snaps. "It's been four months, I think I've figured all that out on my own. But it doesn't matter, because it doesn't make anything better. It doesn't change the fact that I don't _want_ to live like this. I hate it!" Caroline draws a shuddery breath in, her lips quivering as she tries to hold back the tears. Klaus can see it in her eyes how scared she is of herself, of the fact that she's found no solace in the one thing she'd hoped would tip the scales in her favor, help the turmoil settle. He knows exactly what that feels like, how that kind of disappointment eats away at you, and, truth be told, he’s never been good at handling it, he's just... Had more practice.

He wants to reach out to her, take her face in his hands, make her look him in the eye while he tells her it will get better. Every storm dissipates, and this one shall too. He doesn't, though, keeping his hands to himself. He's abstained from fulfilling his role as he should have for months; now, everything about her posture says she does not want to be handled, cuddled, soothed. Not by him, anyway. And it just... Breaks his heart all over again. All that excitement and hopefulness he'd felt a moment before dissolves into shame at the look in Caroline's eyes. How did he let it get this far? How did he let her hurt this much?

"I hate everything about this," she continues. "How I feel every single day. When I started practicing magic, I finally understood the purity of being a witch. The nobility. I was in touch with the whole world around me, _everything_ was energy, was power. And now it's all... Dead. Death. I killed eight werewolves tonight before I got to Francesca, eight of the people who took me in like I was family when I had nowhere to go, and I didn't even blink. Didn't even hesitate. I acted no better than -"

"Me," he completes bitterly.

Caroline stops, her gaze finally focusing on his. Her expression barely changes, but a flurry of emotions crosses her cobalt eyes, darkened with pain and anger.

"Everything has changed," she speaks after a moment. "And not just for me. We tried to pretend it could be the same, that it would all be fine, but... Elijah treats me like I'm a sad puppy he rescued from the side of the road. And you..." Caroline pauses, her voice breaking off around the edge. "I saw the way you looked at me before, and I see the way you look at me now. I was a woman and a mother before, and now I'm a monster."

Klaus' lips part, but nothing comes out. There's so much about what she just said that is untrue that he doesn't even know where to start. But the worst part, the part that makes the words catch in his throat, is that Caroline would feel this way at all about him. Her perception is different, her emotions are heightened, she feels constantly on edge, yes — but that she'd think _he_ feels any different about _her_? Caroline could've murdered the entire population of New Orleans and nothing would've changed. He loves her now as much as he loved her before she turned. Then again... He hasn't been the best at showcasing it, has he? In all honesty, he's never been. But the past few months... He may not be a rookie vampire, but it was as though he'd become something much worse, diminished and useless, unable to even help himself, much less be of any support to anyone else.

Such a pair, they are...

"You could never be a monster, Caroline," he says in a small voice, his heart heavy in his chest.

She clears the tears off her eyes with the tips of her fingers, squaring her shoulder as she recomposes herself. "Things are different now," she says. "You can't tell me that they're not."

Without sparing him a second glance, she marches out of the nursery, out of her own room, her heavy footsteps disappearing into the house.

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Niklaus lets out a deep, wounded sigh, his eyes on the twelve kyanite stones on the table in front of him, but unseeing, distant, his mind a thousand miles away. Or rather, not a thousand miles, but a few feet, somewhere on the second floor of the compound, where Caroline has been hiding since last night.

Elijah doesn't have to ask to know. His brother's always worn his anguish as bright as daylight. The downward curve of his lips and the extra ridges on his forehead tell the whole story. He was upbeat and enthusiastic before, once all the rings were recovered, and then he wasn't. Caroline arrived back to the compound like a hurricane. Put two and two together and you'll always have four.

He thought last night would've brought them together again. That after taking down the Guerreras, giving Caroline her long-awaited revenge against Francesca and restoring Niklaus back to his full glory, things would finally regain some semblance of normalcy. He didn't expect it would make the two of them somehow even worse than before. Honestly, this house lately... Elijah doesn't even know where to begin.

Klaus looks like a little boy who's been caught doing something naughty — sad pout, sagged shoulders, dejected posture, awfully quiet while Elijah prepares to destroy those damned stones once and for all. He's been like this since breakfast — in fact, he's been worse since, when Caroline didn't come down to join them. Elijah guesses they should be glad she at least spent the night home. That's some progress, depending on how you choose to look at it.

He rolls back his sleeves and checks that he has everything he needs.

"Could you not just take a sledgehammer to them?" Klaus grumbles.

"These were forged by a witch, and as such only the elements of water and fire can destroy them." He pauses, collecting the stones in his hand. "I'd have thought this moment would bring you greater pleasure."

"As would I." Niklaus lets out a sharp, pained breath, looking down at his own hands. "I realize now there's nothing to celebrate. Nothing's fixed. Maybe it never will be. And all of this has been my fault. If I had just accepted Caroline's pregnancy instead of playing king... I should've listened to you right from the start. Instead, my greed and my envy robbed me of my daughter. Turned Caroline into something she abhors. Not to mention led to the release of a weapon that can kill not only me, but you."

Elijah smiles shortly. "A thousand years I've survived your attempts to destroy me, brother." He puts all the stones into a bowl and pulls it closer to him. "I imagine I can survive this as well."

Klaus gazes up at him with a look in his eyes as though everything around him is falling apart and he's no idea what to do. It stings still to see this helpless, disheartened version of his brother. It's yet another of the lasting consequences of last spring's battle.

"You chase my redemption like a man rolling a stone up an endless mountain," Klaus muses.

"No mountain is endless, brother. You should remember that." Elijah uses a lighter to set fire to the stones, the magic steeped into them igniting without the need of any fuels. After a second burning, the flames dwindle. Elijah then takes a jar and pours clean water into the bowl, as the instructions he read indicated. They hear a sizzling sound, a thin, white smoke rising from the bowl. Klaus sits up straight on his chair, leaning forward to take a closer look. The black kyanites have all been reduced to ashes. Elijah keeps his eyes trained on his brother; his nightmare is now officially over. "Some are just steeper than others," he concludes after a moment.

Niklaus leans back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, every bit as grim as he was before the stones had been dealt with.

"Perhaps you should call Camille," Elijah offers.

"Whatever for?"

"She might be able to help you understand how to better reach Caroline. Isn't that what she does?"

"I doubt it," Klaus grumbles moodily. "It's not psychology what Caroline needs right now. What she needs is -"

"You."

Klaus shoots him a glare. "I doubt that, too. Maybe you should try to speak to her. You've always been better at this."

"As much as I would like to be able to offer her some comfort in this moment, Niklaus, and as heartbroken as I am myself over all the tragedy that's befallen our family and the loss of my niece, I believe the only one who shares her grief... is you."

He grows quiet for a moment, pensive, then he shakes his head lightly. "We lost our child. What could I possibly say to ease her pain?"

Elijah takes a step closer to his brother, places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Whatever she needs to hear."

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When Klaus walks into the room with his head down and purposely looking away, Caroline knows there's a conversation she won't like on the way. She's feeling all sorts of fucked up already; Klaus' puppy face and guilt trip are definitely two things she can do without. Compassion is something that's been running low for Vampire Caroline. How is she supposed to offer someone comfort when she can't even find any for herself?

She thought that offing Francesca Correa and the last of her clan would give her the closure she needed in order to truly regain control over her life, but if anything Caroline feels even more lost now. Before, she had a clear goal ahead, something to project, to look forward to. Now... The lack of purpose and the very little gratification she got out of her long awaited revenge is eating away at her. The emptiness inside seems to have grown larger than ever, swallowing her up, tempting her into giving in to nothingness again. What the hell is she supposed to do next? What is her life going to be like without a child to raise or someone to hate with all her being?

Caroline barely got any sleep, these goddamn thoughts keeping her wired up all through the night, but she refrained from going out again — _not_ because she didn't desperately need some distraction, but because she figured it was not a smart idea to step into werewolf territory after murdering nine of them. Yes, they were mostly Guerreras and even the ones who weren't fell squarely into the traitorous asshole category, but she bets the Bayou is where Oliver scrammed off to lick his wounds, with his tail between his legs. Asshole or not, he's still a Crescent — and Caroline is still a vampire. Oliver may be rotten to his core, but the wolves will always protect their own, especially against blood-suckers. Besides... The way her hunger spiked last night, she's not sure she would've let him walk free again if they were to bump into each other.

Elijah and Klaus let her be and didn't even question her constant trips to and from the freezer where they keep the blood stash. But Caroline knew it was only a matter of time before one of them came to find her to have _the talk_. Elijah knocked on her door earlier and said they were getting ready to destroy the stones, if she'd like to join them. When Caroline didn't respond, he simply turned around and left. Now it's Mikaelson Number 2's turn.

She watches while Klaus walks all the way to the window, pretends to be distracted with something outside, then slowly circles around, stopping behind the couch directly opposite the one she's sitting on, rapping his knuckles against the backrest.

Caroline sighs. "How did it go with the rings?" she asks when the silence becomes painful to bear.

"All gone. Stones were reduced to dust."

Honestly, she expected him to be in a more upbeat mood now that the rings that made him miserable for the past four months have finally been destroyed for good, but he seems just as grumpy as ever. In fact — no, he actually looks worse. "How do you feel?"

"Relieved, but not yet satisfied. This is just the beginning."

"Isn't it always?"

He finally gazes at her, his jaw clenched and a look in his eyes that seems almost unbecoming on Klaus; it's... sheepish and apologetic. He takes a seat on the center table near her, leaning forward on his knees and staring down at his own hands. There's a long pause before he starts to speak in a mild manner, not a hint of the temper he's sported so often these past few months there.

"I understand how you feel. Better than you imagine,” he says. “I've felt that way for decades, centuries at a time. Like something inside of me had gone off. It's no comfort, but... It does get better."

"When? I'm an immortal now, if I can't get through this week, how am I supposed to get through forever?"

Klaus lifts his face, a sudden spark of determination cutting through the awkwardness. "You know, over the years, I've had my share of friends, enemies, lovers... Losses and triumphs. With time, they all begin to run together, but you will find that the real moments are... Vibrant. The rest just... Fades away. Your pain, too, will fade."

Caroline feels a bit of a twinge somewhere as memories instantly spring to her mind: the awful night of her transition, when she was on the verge of losing the last shreds of her sanity to the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming her every sense, until Klaus got home and she was finally able to breathe again, her mind clearing like the sky after a summer storm. Waking up with him the next morning and realizing that not all was lost. Klaus made her feel alive again when all Caroline knew and felt was _death_ , gave her strength to wrestle the monster inside of her into submission.

Those were the most vibrant moments she's had since she was turned. Not even the initial hunger or the way her head felt as though it was going to explode any second with the excessive information trickling in from every single nerve ending in her body have resonated as strongly. She's still hungry all the time, still gets the discomfort of not having yet grasped complete control of her senses, but the initial shock wore off and is now but a distant memory. What she felt when she kissed Klaus that night, when they fell into bed together, when he finally said he loved her the next morning — that still makes her pulse quicken and her breath catch, even now.

But it's still not enough to make her whole again.

"I don't think my pain will fade until I can hold my baby," she admits. "And the fear that I never will kind of takes over everything else."

"And so you shall. But in order to do that, we need to regain control of the city. The Guerreras are gone, but there's still a wolf army out there answering to the witches. We worked separately once to unite them. We can work together to do it again. They don't have to be our enemies."

"After last night, they're not gonna want to be friends, Klaus."

"We waged a war on those who would harm our child. Your revenge was justified. The wolves loved you once, there's no reason why they should feel any different now. You didn't start any of this; they did, when they chose to align themselves with the Guerreras. Not only will they respect you still, they will listen to you."

"Why would they do that now? I'm a vampire."

"Because, Caroline, you're the queen this city needs. Not just the werewolves, mind you, but I'm willing to bet they know that better than anyone." He speaks with such certainty that Caroline almost believes him. Almost. She couldn't feel further away from a _queen_ these days. What kind of queen would want to isolate herself in the middle of a swamp just to avoid getting in touch with any living person?

Caroline breaks eye contact, looking down at her lap. His confidence in her capabilities is just too much to handle. He is talking to someone who's no longer there, to the Caroline who perished after giving birth four months ago. The new one is nothing but a mix of disappointment and bloodlust.

"What about our other enemies? The witches don't stop plotting even after they're dead," she asks.

"We defeated my mother and her witches before because we stood united." Klaus moves to sit on the couch with her, positioning himself so they're face to face. "That has been our mistake until now. To think that we were better off leaving each other alone. You said things are different, that I look at you differently... You're probably right. But it has nothing to do with how I feel about you — this hasn't changed at all. What changed was how I felt about myself. Every time I saw you, how upset you were, how impatient you grew, I felt weaker and more pathetic. I promised you a revenge I had no idea how to deliver, and it made me ashamed. That is why I hid. For the past four months, I've barely recognized myself — except in how I feel for you." He covers her hand with his own, his thumb drawing gentle circles on her skin. It sends a tingly sensation up her arm, connecting directly with a part of her heart that had been dormant for months. "I need you, Caroline," he says, reverently, a near plea beneath his words. "And I hope you still need me, too. Together is how we must stand, how we are stronger, and how we will face our enemies. As a family."

Caroline turns her palm up, twining her fingers with his. "Together," she says, feeling as a spark of hope, however fragile, reignites at the pit of her stomach. Once again, it's Klaus’ unwavering belief in her and that gleam in his eyes what knives through the grim darkness inside. She scoots closer to him on the couch, and he shifts a little to accommodate her, pulling her into a half embrace when she leans her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, breathing him in. Her entire body relaxes into the warmth of his touch, molding against his. Klaus’ arms is the only place she feels like she truly belongs these days.

He touches the side of her head with his lips, speaking softly against her skin, a promise and a plea all in one. "Let's go get our daughter back."

**TBC**

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOO... thoughts? :D
> 
> The lyrics at the top are from a song that, in my head, would permeate a lot of this chapter, especially the Caroline bits. [It's called Monsters, by Ruelle.](https://open.spotify.com/track/14fRrLJwF9Ca6n5SXMbs5M?si=xmQ4TvEKTXiCmC1jhylxAA)
> 
> The part about the Lalaurie mansion is partly true. That deranged person really existed and lived in the French Quarter. Nicholas Cage has lived in her former mansion.
> 
> I have MANY concerns regarding season 2, which I've shared with some of you before. Adapting this was SUPER hard because, personally, I'm not a fan of season 2. After a while things just make no sense whatsoever and trying to find a way to justify certain things was... tough. I'm not completely happy about it, but I have received great response so far, so I'm confident that, if anything, I have made this entertaining enough, even if some plot points are totally wacko (I blame canon). And also, I guess we'll see how you guys feel. Season 1 had such an overwhelming and unexpected response that I'm afraid to disappoint now. lol GUYS, TO S2 IS A MESS, I'M REALLY TRYING, I PROMISE!
> 
> Because it's difficult to find good opportunity for romance, I've had to make up many original scenes, much more so than in season 1, I think. I will also twist up MANY events. 
> 
> So, more than ever, if you'd like me to keep going, drop me note, let me know how you feel, I would love to read your thoughts on this chapter. Can you tell I love writing Elijah? I love writing Elijah.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. S02E02 Alive and Kicking

The French Quarter hasn't changed all that much from the last time Kol was here. It's a little disappointing, to be honest. One hundred years is more than enough time for things to get shaken up, but apparently no one's bothered with this hell hole his family, for some inexplicable reason, has fallen heads over heels with. He failed to see the appeal then, and he fails to see it now. Not even a brand new pair of eyes has added some flavor.

Well, in all fairness, the fact Nik and Elijah were part of the very foundation of this place might shed a light on why Kol's always thought it was such a drab. His holier-than-thou brothers had their dingy fingers on everything — from how the French Quarter was built, to how it was renewed over decades of fires and different occupations bringing it down. Once they left, it was their pet Marcel Gerard who got in charge. The place never had much of a chance, really. This city is as much a victim of its awful anonymous conquerors as those who are forced to live under their vile influence.

Last time Kol was here, it was December 1914. His family's traditional Christmas bash. He'll never forget it, and not because of the Mikaelsons’ jolly spirit and lavish celebrations. Kol ended up daggered before a room full of guests after Rebekah caught him trying to steal something from Klaus — well, technically, he was merely trying to take it  _ back _ , since it had been previously stolen  _ from _ him. The little wretch rattled him out to their brothers, condemning Kol to spend nearly one hundred years in a box, only to wake up in sodden Mystic Falls and end up dead not long after.

If there is one thing Kol remembers with fondness from his brief stint in New Orleans, however, it’s the witches. Now, those were terrific. Strong, unionized and so very proud. The nine covens were  _ fierce _ and dabbled in some serious magic. The supernatural aura of the Crescent City was intense and enormous, daunting in the same measure it was enthralling and a huge part of that was because of the French Quarter and Treme witches.

Kol always enjoyed running around with them more so than with any other groups — even his own family, if he's to be perfectly honest. No Mikaelson ever accepted and welcomed or appreciated him as much as his witchy friends. To his siblings, Kol was nothing more than a troublemaker, a pain in their royal arses they were made to tolerate for brief periods of time. The witches, on the other hand, recognized his talents for the dark arts. Over the course of centuries, whenever he managed to get away from his codependent family, Kol would travel the world with covens, learning magic he could've only dreamed back when he was still mortal, before mother ruined him for the rest of eternity. He was the only one of her children to ever show an aptitude — and any sort of interest, for that matter — in magic. Which is exactly why Kol is so glad to have been brought back in a body that can actually practice it.

Truth be told, he does miss being a vampire — the rush, the adrenaline, the recklessness... There was an inherent freedom in being powerful and virtually indestructible. Ironic, considering how much of his 1000 years he spent locked up in boxes. But he'll happily take the blessings he's been granted. He could've done worse than this Kaleb bloke, whoever the hell he was. To finally feel the thrill of magic thrumming through his veins, to be able to carry out everything he learned over the course of years and years, is enough for him to shake on any deals his mother might have to offer. If he has to pay a small price for it by being Esther’s errand boy and putting up with Finn's dull person, so be it. It's bloody worth it.

Luckily, his task is far more interesting than that of his bore of a brother; while Finn is the one sent to liaison with the family, Kol has been put on Quarter witch duty. More specifically, a rebellious, anarchistic beautiful little witch by the name of Davina Claire. Powerful  _ and _ stubborn; just his type. Kol used to go around with a Claire witch back in the day. It feels like fate that he should be the one to handle her now. Not only because he'll very much enjoy wooing her over to their cause, but because she might be able to help him with a few personal unfinished businesses he left behind. A little side job, so to speak. What mother doesn't know can't hurt her — or him.

From what he's learned, despite her young age, Davina has seen quite a bit. She's one of the famed Harvest girls, which makes her incredibly powerful, groomed to be one of the elders and control the coven in a few more years. If she hadn't flipped them all off and gone her own way, of course. Her coven only caused her pain, and after everything that happened last spring, she decided to go solo. Answers to no one but herself now. It shouldn't be too hard to win her over, he doesn't think; if there's one thing Mikaelsons have in abundance is the kind of rascal charms that no one, mortal or not, can resist, and not even permanent death seems to have dented Kol's. He particularly enjoys the fact this body comes with an accent, it adds a certain flair that the American accent just doesn't quite capture. He's certain Nik would agree, which is probably why he's preserved his even after centuries living on this side of the Atlantic, the pedantic arsehole.

He's already had his first run-in with the little witch while she went to a record store and bought some dreadful Icelandic folk music, for whatever reason. What kind of seventeen years old listens to that? Well, it adds more to the mystery. He hopes to god she doesn't turn out to be as much of a bore as Finn, though; she's way too pretty for that, it would be such a waste. Plus, Kol could use some worthwhile distraction.

He nicks an apple off a stand and leans against a pole on the next street's corner, taking a bite while he watches as his target crosses the street a distance away. She truly is stunning. Again, he could've done much worse. He's been tailing her for a while, and, not for the first time since he started watching her, she heads to St. Anne's Church. Now, why would a teenage girl such as herself go to that sodden place? It's been closed for months, since the  _ incident _ , as his mother put it. That is some way to describe the brutal assassination of his brother's girl after she was forced into labor, their daughter ending up dead shortly after — all on mother's orders.  _ Incident _ . Cold, even by Kol’s extremely low standards.

According to Kol's intel, Davina spent almost an entire year confined to the attic on that church, hidden away by Nik's lackey, the detestable Marcel Gerard, and the now deceased priest, Kieran O'Connell, while the witches tried to complete their Harvest ritual. Davina eluded them for as long as she could, only to offer herself voluntarily once it became obvious that the consequences of  _ not _ going through with the ritual would be far more devastating. Ballsy girl. But why has she been spending so much time there now? Esther has a suspicion that Davina knows more than she's letting on, has some kind of secret weapon stashed away somewhere — something powerful enough to take down an Original. Like, say... A white oak stake, perhaps.

Whatever it is, Kol has a pretty good idea where she might be keeping it...

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The first sign that something is off hits Elijah in the form of a smell.

As soon as he turns around the corner, even before he's crossed the gates and the arched entrance into the courtyard, the pungent scent of blood fills his nostrils. He stops, all senses sharpening in an instant, and realizes there's a trail leading inside. He spots the source a moment later: the corpse of what he is certain to be a witch, pale as though it's been completely drained of blood, but with large stains down the front of her shirt, a small pool around her fallen body, haphazardly discarded by the fountain. The cause of death is quite evident as well: two tiny, perfect puncture wounds on the neck. Too neat to have been caused by Niklaus' lacerating fangs.

Elijah realizes with concern that the bloody trail doesn't end there. It continues all the way to the stairs, and then up the second floor. He considers for two whole seconds whether or not he even wants to know what he'll find at the end of it before deciding that it's best to just rip off the band aid at once. If anything, then at least so he can properly berate his brother for a toxic indulging behavior that is clearly getting out of control.

He traces the second body all the way to the big bathroom on the second floor, being used as a door weight. Yet another witch; this one he remembers seeing around the Cauldron a couple of times — a young woman that never particularly stood out in any way, neither as a hostile figure, nor as a friendly one. Now she lies dead in his bathroom. There's much less blood soaking up her clothes, though; the perpetrator did a much  _ cleaner _ job while sucking her dry.

He stops dead on his tracks by the door when he realizes the slaughterer in question is calmly having a bath, her hair up in a bun while she disappears underneath a coat of bubbles from the chin down. Caroline hums quietly under her breath while she scrubs her arms. She looks the perfect picture of contentment — relaxed, serene,  _ glowing _ .

Elijah doesn't know what shocks him the most: that she seems so comfortable after having just murdered two people, or that she doesn't even care about closing the door before taking a bath. The scene stirs something in him, sends a wave of warmth rushing up his neck, even if the bigger picture still gives him a strange chill.

"Come to check that I haven't drowned in the bathtub?" Caroline asks, not bothering to look his way.

Elijah diverts his gaze, looking down at the poor dead woman at his feet again. "You've had an eventful morning."

"I was having a crappy day, so Klaus took me out to the Cauldron. Wouldn't you know, we ran into some witches," she offers offhandedly.

Elijah lets out a dejected sigh. When he told his brother he should pay closer attention to Caroline's needs and offer to help whichever way he could, he didn't exactly have  _ this _ in mind. How in God's name can he not realize this is not normal? Not  _ Caroline _ . She's unhinged and dangerously losing touch with an essential part of her humanity. And Niklaus, it seems, is only too glad to oblige.

"Would you like me to remove your leftovers now?" he asks, not keeping the spite off his voice.

"Oh, don't judge, Elijah," Caroline shoots back. "What I did is not worse than anything Klaus has ever done."

"So that's your basis for comparison now? I would hope that you would hold yourself to a higher standard than Niklaus."

"I'm a vampire now, and I have a lingering werewolf temper to go with my appetite. The witches, who are, by the way, responsible for this unfortunate transformation, are worth nothing more than food to me."

Elijah motions towards the woman lying dead by the door. "These witches, you mean? These women had nothing to do -"

"Of course they did," Caroline cuts him off, her eyes flashing. "Even if they weren't there at the exact moment it all went down, they knew what was happening. What their elders and ancestors were planning for my child. It was their coven, and they didn’t try to stop it. Even now they look at me with disdain, like I  _ deserved _ what I got and they would love nothing more than to eliminate me for good. Don't talk like I'm going about murdering  _ innocents _ . They're getting exactly what they deserve. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like some peace and quiet to  _ unwind _ . I'm using bath salts and scented candles and you're killing the mood."

She lies back on the tub, shutting her eyes to draw a line under the conversation. She's being completely unreasonable, but it strikes Elijah how inappropriate it is to be discussing such a matter with her while she's  _ in the tub _ . Besides, he's not entirely sure  _ she _ is the one he should be discussing it with, anyway. She’s a baby vampire; her emotions are seldom in check. There’s someone else behind this who should know better.

Elijah swivels around and marches out, but then stops, turns back to the dead witch and wraps his hand around one of her ankles to pull her out of the way. "I'd recommend shutting the door next time you want to use this bathroom," and then closes the door behind him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You took her on a  _ witch hunt _ ?"

Klaus lets out a pained breath, deliberately not lifting his eyes from his book. He doesn’t have to look to know exactly what he'll find on Elijah's face: reproach and judgement.

Here he was, relaxing with a drink while he loses himself in some fine poetry after the most delightful day out in the sun with Caroline and a bunch of unrepentant witches who were, truth be told, begging to be introduced to her brand new pair of fangs and the wolfish temper that goes with it. Elijah always has to find a way to ruin his mood with his wet blanket attitude. It’s like he takes pleasure in being a buzzkill.

"I simply wanted to persuade those witches to locate the white oak stake for me. When they proved unable to do so, I let Caroline take over and have her fun," he calmly explains, a half-smirk springing to his lips.

It's all very logic, really — the witches did something very bad and the only way Klaus will grant them peace to carry on with their sodden lives is if they prove to be useful. Caroline feels even stronger about their terrible manners — as she should, after what those covens put her through. And oh, how she enjoyed putting her point across... She's getting so good at it, so fast. Klaus always knew Caroline would be a formidable vampire, but she's somehow even better. The way she carries herself, the sparkle in her eyes when she prepares to attack, how quick and strong she is... Every bit the queen she was before, compelling and assertive. Only perhaps slightly more peckish.

He's not complaining, though. He rather likes this new unapologetically darker side of Caroline. It's  _ incredibly _ alluring. Perhaps if Elijah were to witness it, he would understand.

On second thought, though... It's probably better if he doesn't.

"She grows more savage by the day, Niklaus. Can you not see that she is falling apart?"

"Perhaps the problem lies in you, brother, and in your high standards," Klaus counters. "Caroline is one of us now. Being a vampire only exaggerates what you truly are, and witches have always had a wild side to them. She's merely embracing her new nature. Your judgement only hurts her."

"I am trying to help her and I asked you to do the same."

"I  _ am _ helping her." Klaus puts down his book, his fine mood quickly fraying at the disapproving bite on Elijah's tone, like he's some irresponsible little boy who needs to be schooled. "You should've seen her, Elijah, covered in witches' blood, smiling from ear to ear... She is  _ finally _ coming to terms with this. A little less criticism from you and Caroline will be just fine."

"Have you completely lost your mind? She deserves much better than  _ just fine _ ."

"She is a baby vampire, Elijah. I understand you've forgotten what it's like to be one, but trust me, Caroline will get used to it."

"And by getting used to it, you mean turn into you? You genuinely believe that bloodthirsty, vengeful and cruel is what Caroline  _ truly _ is? That is her essence, the aspects of her personality that should be enhanced?"

Klaus fixes his brother with a dark look, his lips pressing into a stubborn line, mood definitely soured now. The truth is — he wishes he had a good comeback to shut Elijah up for good, but... Nothing comes to mind. The fact there might be some reason within his assessment of Caroline's behavior is... Honestly, beyond annoying.

He so hates it when Elijah is right.

"She is angry, Niklaus," he continues. "Confused. She murdered Francesca and it did nothing to quell her temper, so now she's seeking other outlets and you are taking her hand and guiding her through a path of destruction. Brother, you should know better than anyone how damaging this is. The more you indulge this  _ wildness _ , as you put it, the more unhinged she'll become, and you risk losing her. Caroline's  _ true _ essence, the light you have waxed poetic about so many times, will be extinguished as the monster inside of her takes over. Can you not see that?"

"First you complain we're alienating ourselves from each other. Now you complain we're spending too much time together. Make up your mind already, Elijah, will you?"

"That is not at all what I'm saying."

"Have you considered that perhaps you lack faith in her? I know Caroline. This won't destroy her. She's made of stronger material than you give her credit for. She's new, so she might tumble a few times as she learns her way around her circumstances, but I've met but few as resourceful or tenacious as her in my life. I know she'll get through the worst of it. I  _ believe _ in her," Klaus drawls, speaking in a slow and unwavering tone. "Maybe you should, too."

Elijah might be  _ somewhat _ right, but so is he. He does not know Caroline the way Klaus does, and he most certainly doesn't understand the burning desire for revenge that the two of them share over the loss of their child. As involved as Elijah was, this is something he cannot fathom. Disregarding all the terrible pain Caroline still carries inside of her would be a mistake. If what she needs to feel better is to kill a few witches - well, what's so wrong about it? Not like they don't deserve it.

"Or maybe..." Elijah starts again after a moment. "This would be a good time for her to return to Mystic Falls. Seeing her family, her friends, might reconnect her with the deepest parts of her humanity."

Klaus scoffs. "Well, that's a fine idea, brother, but, unfortunately, you're late. I suggested that more than a few times since she was turned — the first of which shortly after I gave her a daylight ring. She doesn't want to go back."

Elijah frowns. "Why not? She was always talking about how much she missed her mother. If there was ever an appropriate time..."

"She wouldn't elaborate on it, but I can make an educated guess. Might have something to do with the new pair of fangs she's been sporting."

Caroline never put it into so many words why she didn't want to go home, but if she was afraid of how her mother and those little rascals she calls friends would think of her if they knew she was pregnant, he can only imagine how terrified she must be that they'll turn their backs on her now that she's a vampire. Not that Klaus thinks Sheriff Forbes would ever do that — she might be shocked, yes, perhaps even horrified at first, but she'd never cast out her own daughter. Caroline is probably just afraid to disappoint her. And that... Well, Klaus can understand the sentiment.

"Take her to the Bayou, then."

"What exactly is she to do there? Play hide and seek with a bunch of cowardly Crescents who refuse to come out of their burrows? Or perhaps she should go on a more specific hunt, after that so called  _ alpha _ who disappeared into thin air? Please..." He shakes his head. "How is that supposed to help her?"

"You joke, but that's exactly what you should do, Niklaus. Help her find the remaining wolves. We know they're out there somewhere. Caroline felt very strongly about the Crescents once, I'm sure her feelings won't have changed, and maybe her werewolf friends can reach her in a manner neither of us can. It's an opportunity for her to practice some of her new skills, train her senses and, above everything... It will offer her the degree of dignity and humanity you have failed to provide." Elijah smiles smugly at him. "It's a lovely day outside. Perfect for a foray into the swamp, don't you think?"

Before Klaus can contest his detestable self-righteous ideas, Elijah turns on his heels and disappears from sight, off to take care of God knows what. He sighs, disgruntled, throwing his book aside.

He doesn't really have a choice, does he? If he refuses, Elijah will accuse him of deliberately trying to make Caroline lose her mind. Klaus doesn't know which is worse: that, or if it turns out Elijah is proved right, after all.

_ Perfect _ , he thinks. Just what he needed to ruin what had so far been a perfectly fine day. A trip to the bog. The things he will do for Caroline...

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Niklaus is mostly wrong about — well, everything. His brother's approach to life in general tends to be quite skewed. He is living proof of what losing touch with one's humanity will do to an immortal. His heart may be in the right place, and Elijah doesn't doubt that it is, but that does not make him any less misguided.

Still, some of the things he said gave Elijah some food for thought... Perhaps he has been too harsh in judging Caroline's recent antics. However strongly he might disagree with the way she's been handling her anger, he should've been more understanding of her situation. They've eliminated the Guerreras and still New Orleans is not a safe enough place for Eve. Before, they used to hold on to the idea that, as soon as Klaus had recovered his full strength and Francesca and her gangsters had been dealt with, everything would be fine. Now, they've reached that point only to realize how mistaken they were.

Taking down the Guerreras was but the first milestone. While they hid and mourned and tried to pick up the pieces, Francesca’s short-lived reign had devastating consequences. Murdered and persecuted vampires, empowered witches, more moonlight rings being manufactured and the werewolves' support growing stronger each day. It seems like they now have much more work to do than they'd anticipated, which means they haven't the slightest idea on when they'll ever be able to end the deception and bring his niece to her rightful home. It's no wonder Caroline is so mad... And so desperately in need of alleviation — which Niklaus, ever the homicidal savage, is only too glad to provide. It is, after all, his area of expertise. His brother is handling the situation the only way he knows how — which is wrong, and harmful, but not ill-intentioned.

All the while, all Elijah did was look crossed and spin commentary on their barbaric demeanor. He did the exact same thing when Caroline started disappearing for nights in a row, feeding off of animals in the Bayou. He never meant to wound her feelings, only ever wanted her to realize she had all the support she could need right here, at home, if only she would let them in. It never occurred to him that he might've been hurting her. That his criticism would come out as a form of disappointment.

He could never be disappointed in Caroline. In his brother, definitely; disappointed, but never surprised. Niklaus is what Niklaus is and he will do as he's always done: act his own way. But not her. Never her. After everything she's been through... Elijah wouldn't dare.

Now he cannot help but wonder if all this time, while he thought he was offering counsel and being friendly, he was in fact what had been pushing her further away from their family.

Anyway... On at least one account, Elijah cannot disagree with his brother: they need to find that white oak stake, and fast. On their own, there's very little they can do. It could be anywhere, with anyone, and their relationship with the witches has been far from favorable. Besides, Elijah can't really say he'd trust them, anyway. They could be after the stake themselves right now. They could have it in their power, as far as he knows, just waiting for an opportunity to use it. The irony lies in the fact that, in order to locate the stake, he needs a witch. And thus he finds himself in quite a dilemma.

Which is why Elijah has gone for a stroll himself, in Algiers. If they can't get to a witch, then they need to reach out to someone who can. Right now, there's only one person they can consider moderately trustworthy for the job.

Marcel Gerard.

But it seems as though Elijah has arrived at an inappropriate time, in the middle of... something. Marcel has gathered a group of people — from what he can tell, all perfectly, mundanely human — outside his loft. He stands at the top of the stairs leading to the building, speaking to the group with a petite brunette woman with a severe expression right beside him.

"Gia here has proved herself," he declares. "She knows what she's getting into. So she's gonna be the first one that I turn. Everybody else — first I need to be sure that you can handle moving up a notch on the food chain. The emotional ups and downs, the solitude, the bloodlust... Imagine hearing the sound of a heart beating and wanting more than anything to  _ feed _ . That's what it's like to be a vampire. It's not for everybody. Some folks, well... Let's just say it brings out the worst in them."

_ Ah _ , Elijah thinks. So this is what Marcel has been up to. Niklaus told him he'd been gathering some lowlives and degenerates to assemble a new vampire alliance. It's every bit as terrible as he imagined. This is hardly the best way to get you followers — by picking up strays from the streets and trying to decide which of them is strong enough to thrive as an immortal predator. But Marcel seems to have this nurturing thing about him — treating his lackeys like charity work, as though they're friends he's kindly mentoring out of the goodness of his heart. Elijah can appreciate the theatrics of his coach-like speech, though. The dramatic tone seems to cause an impact.

The woman he chose to bestow the honor of becoming the first soldier in his new army looks far from impressive, though. He wonders whatever Marcel means with  _ proved herself _ . This whole thing looks more like a Vampires Anonymous support group than an actual  _ army _ , in his modest opinion.

"Elijah," Marcel greets diplomatically, approaching him with that typical thousand-watt smile of his. "Didn't expect to see you on this side of the river."

"Didn't expect to see you assemble a new vampire community from the ground up. I guess we're both full of surprises."

"My community was fine until Klaus had the brilliant idea to make moonlight rings," Marcel retorts, the courteous smile turning strained before vanishing from his face. Elijah much prefers things like this, honest and straightforward. Marcel has this politician aspect to his personality that just rubs Elijah the wrong way, makes him harder to read.

Despite the fact he was incredibly helpful in taking down the Guerreras, for which Elijah is truly grateful, his relationship with their family is still... Rocky, to say the least. It's best to make that clear than to pretend to be best friends again. That did not work out well the last time.

"Now that Harvest girl is making more of those goddamn enchanted stones, offering them to the wolves in exchange for their allegiance, and they're all just kneeling at her feet. Their army becomes more numerous by the day. The Quarter is a dangerous place now, and you... You're the last true vampire left there."

"Caroline is there as well."

"She's a new one," Marcel shrugs. "Still getting her bearings. And not exactly like the rest of us either, is she? I heard the wolves talking about her. She's halfway to a hybrid. If you ask me, you're better off joining my community." He smiles again, waving a hand towards the group of people still standing a way behind him. "Maybe that's why you're here?"

Elijah grins. "Uh-uh. If you ask me, your community doesn't look like it'll be flourishing, based on what I saw here today."

"We're doing what we can. Not many volunteers these days. I guess vampires aren't as popular anymore. We need a new franchise."

"Oh, goodness, no. I hardly think what you need is another horde of teenage girls chasing after anything with a pair of fangs. That was not a good crop."

Marcel chuckles. "True."

"I came to make you an offer. Find me the white oak stake, and I'll let this little social experiment of yours continue," Elijah says, gesticulating dismissively towards Marcel's  _ people _ .

The other man scoffs. "That's grand. But even if I wanted to help you, I don't have a clue where the stake is."

"Maybe not, but you do have an ally in the one rogue witch left in the French Quarter." At the mention of Davina, Marcel's lighthearted demeanor immediately changes. He squares his shoulders, his eyes becoming dark and threatening. Elijah can at least admire — and relate to — how protective he is of that girl. "Thing is, I'd speak to her myself," he continues. "But I feel the conversation might become a little unpleasant."

"You don't go anywhere near her."

"Then it's settled," Elijah smiles easily, putting a hand on Marcel's arm. "You'll deal with the matter closely, I'll wait for further notice. Try not to take long, the matter is of utmost urgency — as I'm sure you can understand. Your entire endeavor here depends on it."

He takes one last look at the men and women gathered in front of Marcel's building. None of them had been paying attention to their conversation, some distracted, lost in their own thoughts, others conversing between themselves — all except one. The girl — Gia, was it? She has her arms crossed over her chest while she watches them with hawk eyes. At least she's smart enough to pick up on the important things around her.

Elijah grins, then turns around and walks back to his car.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I told you this place was deserted," Caroline grumbles while she and Klaus make their way across the Bayou.

She has no clue where he got the idea to come here today, or why he was so insistent that she should tag along. He knows she'd been taking refuge here for days in a row. Everyone's packed up their things and left, there's nothing to see but abandoned cabins. Klaus hated the Bayou on a good day. Why in hell’s name would he want to come out here now that the Crescents have all scattered?

"No," he says. "Their scent is fresh. They're hiding, which means somewhere not too far you will find the remnants of your friend's pack."

"And then what? It's not that they're exactly going to welcome us. If they'd wanted to say hello, they would've come out in one of the many nights I spent out here on my own. If there's one thing these people hate even more than vampires, it's hybrids. They weren't in a friendly mood before, they will definitely not be now that you're here."

Klaus stops walking and swivels around to her. "What they hate is their lack of power, hence the willingness of their brethren to deal with that witch in exchange for rings. But she hasn't gotten to your lot yet. So we need to get to them first and ensure they align with us."

"Oh?" Caroline folds her arms across her chest, thoroughly unimpressed. "That's our task of the day? Not even a courtesy visit, a business one. You should've told me that before we left the house, I would have spared you the trip."

"Precisely why I didn't."

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "How do we find them?"

"I'll leave the task to you."

"What? You're the one who brought me out here!" Caroline snaps, all fiery indignation.

"You're a vampire now, love. With heightened senses and some remaining werewolf skills, unlike anything under the sun besides me," Klaus offers in that smug and dismissive way of his that makes her want to throw things at him. "You have to fine tune those skills, learn how to use them. Go on, then. Find your mates."

"Brilliant! So it's also teaching time!  _ God _ ." Caroline stomps past him, puffing out air in annoyance. Klaus must be in a competition with Elijah to see who gets on her nerves the most today, that is the only explanation. "You do realize Elijah is not home," she starts as she makes her way deeper into the Bayou. "We'd have the compound all to ourselves. Just us, with your brother's super hearing nowhere in sight. We could do  _ whatever _ we wanted." She casts a look at him over her shoulder, notices the way his lips curl into a smirk. "Instead, you drag me out here to find people who clearly don't want to be found."

"That's very low, sweetheart."

"It's not low, it's just the truth. In fact — I happen to find it  _ insulting _ that you would rather be trudging in the swamp than having se-" Caroline stops dead on her tracks, standing up straighter. She picked something in the air, a different kind of smell.

Klaus walks up to her, stopping inconveniently close, his breath warm on the nape of her neck. "Go on, then. Finish that sentence, I was enjoying where this conversation was going."

" _ Shhhh _ !" Caroline frowns at him, gesticulating for him to be quiet. "You're breaking my concentration."

She follows the brief scent all the way to an abandoned tent — or what she assumes is an abandoned tent. There's some stuff scattered about, but she goes straight for a shirt — a flannel one, obviously. She inhales deeply, realizing that was the scent she just felt. It's musky and woody and like trees after a rain. It seems fresh, though. Whoever wore this, wore it not a long time ago. She closes her eyes, takes a sharp intake of breath and tries to focus. And then she realizes she has no idea what she's doing. How is she supposed to track this scent? It gets mixed up with everything else. They're in the middle of the  _ Bayou _ , for God's sake. Wood and trees is all there is.

"This is so stupid," she grunts, throwing the shirt back where she found it and starting to walk again.

"These people need a leader," Klaus speaks, still tailing her. "You were once like a queen to them."

"I'm a mess, Klaus," she bites out, snapping around to look at him. Klaus and Elijah seem to expect a kind of  _ greatness _ from her that she was never sure she could deliver before she died, much less now. Something on her face must make it obvious that she's speaking from a deep place of frustration, because his eyes soften and his annoyingly persistent posture seems to change. "I cry all day, I feed all night — you know that. I can barely rule myself, how am I supposed to be a queen to anyone else? Why would anyone follow me? A queen is supposed to be fair and level-headed and selfless, to think about the good of her subjects, and all I can think about, all the time, is how much I miss my daughter and how much I hate everyone who took her from me."

A shadow crosses Klaus' face. "Do you think you're alone in that pain?"

"I don't know. You don't talk about her, not to me, anyway. First, you didn't talk about anything. Now all you talk about is learning this and that, and being strong and fast and hunting and feeding -"

"I have not stopped thinking about her," he grits out, as though the mere mention of it hurts. "But I seek comfort in the idea of what I will do to those who would harm her."

"I used to think that was the comfort I needed," she confesses quietly. "Now I know it's not."

Klaus takes a step forward, putting a finger under her chin and lifting her face to look her levelly in the eye. When she doesn't push him away or offers a protest, he cups the side of her face with his hand. Despite the hardness in her eyes and the purse of her lips, almost involuntarily Caroline relaxes.

"I want you to be strong because the stronger you get, the more you learn how to control your senses and your abilities, to use it to your own benefit, the easier it'll be for you," he speaks, his voice pitched low and gentle. "This terrible discomfort you feel — it will settle. But for that to happen, you need to get used to it, and the best and quickest way for that to happen is if you master the beast inside."

"Sometimes I feel like I'll never learn how to do that."

"You're already halfway there, sweetheart. You're stronger than you think. The more comfortable you feel in your own skin, the closer you'll be to perfection." He offers her a cheeky grin, a dimple cutting into one of his cheeks. "You could command an entire camp of proud, old werewolves as a witch. Soon enough, you'll be giving Elijah lessons on self-control." She finally cracks a smile — the first honest one she's had on her face for a very long time. "All I want to do is help you get there. You can tell me if I'm failing."

"You're not," she admits with some reluctance. "I'm just being difficult."

Klaus arches his eyebrows at her. "Then how about you give it another try?"

Caroline huffs out a breath, shrugging. "Fine. Teach me, oh, grand master. How do I use these werewolf skills?"

He narrows his eyes playfully at her, putting both his hands on her shoulders and spinning her around, so her back is to him. "I will let the sarcasm go with just a warning this time. Now, close your eyes." Caroline holds back a smile and obliges. "Concentrate. You already picked up their scent from that awful excuse for clothing there. Now all you have to do is find the trail. Pay attention to the wind."

_ All right, Caroline, _ she tells herself.  _ Time to stop moping around and put on your big werewolf pants. _

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It seems isolation has done wonders for Marcel. Not only he seems to be more generally agreeable now, he's also become surprisingly efficient.

Not even an hour after Elijah leaves his place, he gets a call informing him that Davina is on her way to see him. Turns out they hadn't spoken in a while, so it didn't seem all too suspicious when he got in touch saying they needed to catch up. Davina knows he's been banned from the French Quarter, hasn't set foot anywhere near it in months, so she offered to cross the river to see her old friend.

Marcel also told him in no uncertain terms that he was not invited for their little get together and, were he to make his way back there, he was supposed to wait outside for when Davina left. "She won't tell me anything if you're here. Trust me, that girl has very strong feelings about you and your family."

It's a good thing, then, that Elijah never took orders from the likes of Marcel.

He's there, lurking in the shadows, when Davina arrives, and once she's inside the building, he follows, quiet as a ghost. He'll allow Marcel to speak his mind and do this whichever way he sees fit. If the girl proves hard to negotiate with... Well, then he might have to interfere.

Elijah doesn't mean to use violence against her; she is, after all, but a child. And one who's seen far too much horror in her short life. But the matter truly is urgent, and the longer it takes for them to find that stake, the less patient Elijah becomes. He might be able to communicate the urgency of the matter in ways Marcel never could.

There's a lot of small talk and conversations about school and boyfriends and various things Elijah couldn't care less about. He's already starting to grow tired, considering whether or not to make his grand entrance in order to expedite matters, when Marcel finally gets to the point.

"Ok, look. I hate to ask for a favor, but... I need a locator spell. Something's missing." There's a pause. "A white oak stake. It's powerful enough to kill an Original."

"Did one of them put you up to this?" the girl retorts, already sounding irritated.

"D, if that stake is used on Klaus, every vampire that he sired dies, too."

"I know. But what if I do find it? I'm not just gonna give it to Klaus. He and Elijah are both brutal, sadistic monsters."

Well, she's not wrong, but it still offends his sensibilities.

"I do wish I could disagree with you," Elijah says as he finally enters the loft. It's useless to let Marcel do the talking here. Besides...

There was something about the tone of her voice that piqued Elijah's interest in a very particular way.

Davina shoots daggers at Marcel, fuming at his presence. He simply ignores Marcel's glares as he approaches, keeping a safe distance so she won't think he's about to launch an attack — not that she would ever see him coming, if he were truly inclined to do so.

"Tragically, however, you're quite right," he continues with a short grin, stuffing a hand in his pocket. "Although you and I have excellent reason to find that weapon. I want it to protect my family, you want it to protect your friends. We'd do well to forget our grievances and join forces."

"No," she slams at him, not missing a beat.

"Davina, would you just -" Marcel tries to reason with her, but she simply shuts him down.

"No! I'm done listening." She turns back to Elijah, her blue eyes burning with anger. "For a long time, you and your family have had all the power. You manipulate and kill anyone who gets in your way. That time is over. From now on, you will know what it is to be afraid."

She doesn't even wait for Marcel to attempt another plea, simply marches out of the building the same way she came with her hands balled into tight fists next to her. Davina Claire has truly become a force to be reckoned with. Elijah always knew she was powerful, having been chosen as a Harvest girl, but the way she was treated by almost every single person in her life has also made her hard. She's been honing her craft all on her own for months now, having cut all ties with her coven, and Elijah has been most curious about what exactly she was up to.

This auspicious encounter might have answered all his questions, all at once.

"Nice, man," Marcel complains. "I asked you to stay out of sight. Couldn't you have waited? I was talking to her."

"I wanted to come face to face with her."

"Why? So you could piss her off?"

"I wanted to see something for myself." Elijah turns to Marcel, a thoughtful crease between his eyebrows. "She cares for you, and yet how cavalier she was at the jeopardy that you now face."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying... She knows the stake will not be used because she knows precisely where it is," Elijah explains. "She's had it all along."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It takes them almost an hour, penetrating deeper and deeper into unknown parts of the Bayou, long past where the previous camps used to be, before they finally find any signs of life. And when they do, it's not at all rewarding.

Apparently the Crescents were only too quick to forgive Oliver for his sins.

"Jackson is MIA and Oliver seems to think he's their alpha," Caroline says bitterly, shaking her head as the two of them watch the wolves from a safe distance. Klaus has taught her how to trick their senses by using the wind to disguise her scent. Caroline hates to admit it, but it's been actually educating to come out here today, if totally disappointing as well. "He betrayed all of them and now just because I took his ring, he comes back and starts barking out orders to the very people he abandoned. I cannot believe they took him in so fast."

"Well, it's all your fault, love, for showing mercy to that diminutive excuse for a werewolf."

"How the hell was I supposed to know they'd take him back as a  _ leader _ ? I thought he would suffer, be cast out. Jackson would never forgive him."

"Jackson is a coward. If he truly cared about his people, he wouldn't have disappeared like a little puppy with his tail tucked between his legs."

Klaus' remark earns him a glare. "You don't know what happened to him. No one does. Because of that  _ jackass _ over there," she hisses out. "I don't know what you want me to do here. They're never gonna listen to me."

"You've influenced them before."

"Exactly.  _ Before _ . They might have been willing to listen to a witch pregnant with a little wolf who was, technically, a part of their pack. But I'm nothing to them anymore. Who do you think they'd rather listen to, a vampire or one of their own?"

"I know who  _ I _ would rather listen to." She rolls her eyes at him. "I'm being perfectly reasonable. You're much stronger than that pathetic sod has ever been. In fact, you just beat him to a pulp. Why do you think werewolves are considered barbaric to this day? They've preserved many of their ancient rituals and traditions, much more than any other faction, and one of the things they look up to is strength. It speaks louder than pure blood. Trust me. They will listen to you. Now go on, talk to them."

Caroline falters, and Klaus arches his eyebrows at her, making a  _ shoo _ motion with his hand while nodding towards the wolves. Even if his argument does sound reasonable, this whole pep-talk does nothing to calm her nerves. Caroline has nothing to offer them, and she suspects merely pointing out how much of an ass Oliver is not going to cut it.

Still, she braces herself for courage, pulls her hair behind her ears and strides out of the shadows with as much purpose as she can muster. The second they notice her, though, the werewolves start backing away. Oliver is the only one who takes a step forward, his lips twisting into an ugly grimace.

"What do you two want?" he barks.

"Hold your tongue, or I'll tear it from your gaping mouth," Klaus replies for her. Caroline shoots him a look from over her shoulder. If he wants her to talk to them, then he has to let  _ her _ do the talking.

"We didn't come here to fight, Oliver," she says. Her tone is much more placating than Klaus’, but not entirely devoid of hostility. She’s never been an accomplished actress; disguising how she feels about him is simply impossible.

"Well, then?"

She swallows, shuffling a little on her spot. "Your pack has been divided by people who want you all to be enslaved," she starts, speaking to everyone, rather than just to Oliver. "What you need right now is a leader. Someone who will unite you, make you strong again. Someone who will fight for your pack."

"And who will that be? You?" Oliver sneers. "You're not one of us. Hell, you're not even a werewolf. You're a bloodsucking vampire parasite."

Annoyance flares up inside of Caroline, taking a dangerous turn into anger territory, and she's suddenly taken with the urge to jump Oliver and tear him apart. She knows he's baiting her, probably trying to get her to explode, thus proving some idiotic point about how vampires can never be trusted. But it's not  _ all _ werewolves Caroline wants to rip to shreds; mostly, it's just him.

All her muscles tense as she fights to keep herself restrained, but her gaze is a clear warning. "Want to say that again and see what happens, Oliver? My werewolf temper has not gone away after I was murdered by your  _ friends _ — but then you already know that, don't you?"

He lets out a bark of laughter. "Tough girl. You wanna attack me?" He opens his arms, inviting her. Oh, if only he knew how much she wants to... "And you're gonna do it in front of all of them? You'll just give them another reason to say yes to Cassie and her moonlight rings. They would rather follow a witch, which you no longer are, than a vampire who walks around with the likes of  _ that _ ," he spits out the last part, bobbing his head towards Klaus. "Me? Hell, I'd rather die than follow you anywhere."

Before Caroline can even come up with an appropriate retort, Klaus advances onto Oliver, punching him into the ground. He kicks his side, and then, while Oliver contorts in pain, Klaus puts the heel of his boot on the wolf's throat. All he has to do is apply a little bit of pressure and Oliver will be done for.

Caroline dwells on how much that idiot deserves it, versus the consequences of a public execution in front of the very pack whose allegiance they're trying to win. It'll get them nothing to kill Oliver. The air has suddenly become loaded, and she can see the rest of the pack grinding their teeth and fisting their hands. They know Klaus can take them all out and barely break a sweat if he wants to — and they probably know Oliver is not worth risking their lives for — but that annoying little man was not wrong... Werewolves are proud and fiercely loyal, and the one thing that unites all of them beyond any spats is their shared hatred for vampires and hybrids.

"Let him go, Klaus," she says, with not a lot of enthusiasm.

"You need to learn about the art of politics, love. You gain support..." He presses his foot down harder, making Oliver gasp for air. "By killing your detractors."

"They may not like me very much, but these people, including...  _ him _ , are a part of the pack that welcomed me here. They're Jackson's and Eve's family, and they would be our daughter's as well." She exchanges a meaningful look with Klaus. "Let him go. Now."

He arches his eyebrows, raising his arms at the angry mob surrounding them. "You see? There's a queen for you. Powerful, fearless and, unlike me, merciful." Klaus removes his foot from Oliver's throat, allowing him to draw a desperate breath in. He smirks, and then turns back to her. "These people need to show you more respect. You risked your life for them —  _ one of them _ is the reason you lost yours. Now... How you handle them is entirely up to you."

Caroline frowns. "What? Where are you going?"

"Seeing as my presence here is entirely unwelcome," he casts a venomous glance at the wolves. "I'll leave you to it. I have to go find a certain witch. It seems I need to educate her as to what she may or may not do in my city."

Before Caroline can even point out that he has a  _ duty _ to stay here with her, considering he was the one who brought her all the way here and then pushed her to talk to the werewolves, Klaus has stormed off.

"Fucking awesome," she curses under her breath, turning around to see the pack has gathered around Oliver and are all pointedly staring at her.

Now would be a good time for her to get in touch with the dead Miss Mystic Falls inside of her.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kol smiles affably while Davina steps outside the lousy pub to take a call. By the look on her face and her urgency on answering it, he can put his money on it being his brother's favorite doormat, Marcel.

As soon as she's out of sight, he knocks back the rest of his drink. It's interesting that he finds himself with more than one reason to be miffed. As it turns out, the little witch is more than just a pretty face. She actually has some flair and charisma, and he was having a surprisingly good time on their  _ date _ . Kol is rather rusty when it comes to that — and, frankly, it was never one of his strongest suits, seeing as he had very little patience for the courting part. Most of his past affairs were of the fast and furious type: fiery one night stands that were as passionate as they were short-lived.

He never had much patience for the nuance of human interaction, truth be told, not like Elijah and Rebekah, and far less than even Nik. That probably explains why most of his romantic enterprises, if he can even call it that, involved the witches he used to walk around with. Sometimes all of them at once. It just seemed convenient, since they were always hanging out anyway. Besides, the witches were at least interesting. Flashy exteriors are all fine, but Kol can have that for lunch. What truly grabs his attention is a sharp, wicked mind. And it just seems like he might've underestimated the incredibly beautiful Davina. There's some darkness burning behind those blue eyes of hers, and she's way smarter than her young age suggests. She knows what she wants, and, more importantly, it seems like she knows exactly how to get it.

Now all Kol needs to find out is  _ what _ , exactly, she is after here.

Finn is certain that she has a  _ secret weapon _ . Keeps flapping on about how that's of  _ utmost _ importance to their mother's plan — which, frankly, makes no sense to Kol. He doesn't doubt his mother has been sharing more about her malign schemes with Finn than she does with him — such  _ novelty _ , people in this family utterly ignoring him — but why in hell's name would the white oak stake mean so much to Esther? She wants to put them in mortal bodies, just as she's done to Finn and himself. The stake serves her nothing.

To Kol, on the other hand, it might come in handy. Having leverage over a bunch of arrogant, self-serving Originals can't hurt. When this is all over, Kol would like to be on the winning side, the side where he gets to live, whichever one it might be. Unlike Finn, who's a brain-washed sycophant, Kol is not so certain that Esther will take this one. He's spent enough time with his brothers to know how headstrong and viciously vindictive they are.

Still, even out of practice, Kol thinks their date here was going rather well. Davina was laughing, tossing her hair, losing herself into this new set of blue eyes he's sporting now, batting her eyelashes at him. She asked about his family, which was inconvenient, but he fed her some half-truths about having a control freak of a mother and a bunch of crazy loons for siblings he'd rather not talk about, and, well. It's technically not a lie. Davina then told him about her own crappy relatives, all of whom abandoned her to die at the hands of her own coven several times over. At least in that regard they're very much alike.

Kol was feeling the fresh wind of progress. They were  _ bonding _ over their terrible families, and he could see Davina finally start to open up. She's a teenage girl who's always walking about on her own, spending ungodly amounts of time locked up inside a church. Of course she could use the attention and a friend, someone who gets her ordeal, someone she can trust. Granted, were Kol back in his vampire body, this is probably not how he would choose to do this, but in this witchy form, charm and personality are his best options when it comes to coaxing secrets out of lonely young witches.

His brother obviously disagrees, as he would. In his fervent ardor to tend to their mother's every order as though he'd been compelled, Finn decided Kol was  _ stalling _ , and started spinning threats about how he'd take matters into his own hands. The problem with having spent 900 years not seeing Finn's sorry face is that he hasn't a clue of what that actually means. His  _ way _ of handling things could be anything under the sun.

Frankly, although Kol would argue a strong case against Nik's terrible penchant for daggering his siblings at the slightest hint of discord, he would've probably kept Finn in a box himself. Such a prissy  _ bore _ ...

He smiles when Davina finally makes her way back to their table, but the look in her eyes says he's not going to like what she's about to tell him.

"Bad news, love?"

"Yeah... Listen, we're gonna have to -"

She's cut off by a strange flurry of movement at the bar. All of a sudden, people around them start getting up and walking out in an orderly fashion, while some ugly looking fellows make their way in. He can sense the atmosphere shifting, the air suddenly stuffy and heavy-loaded with ill-intentions. The malicious glint in the men's eyes leaves no doubt as to what they're truly here about — and neither do the shiny rings on their fingers.

_ Brilliant _ , he thinks. His mother's new pets, probably on Finns' orders. Now, on top of having to play the witty prince charming, he'll also have to play rescuer in order to impress the girl. Honestly, the things he does for this sodden family...

Davina immediately tenses, her lips pressed into a fine line as her eyes start quickly analyzing their situation. "We should leave, now," she tells him with urgency.

"What's the rush, sweetheart?" one of the guys says, stepping into her way, his eyes flashing yellow while he offers her a crooked-toothed smirk. "Why don't you stay and party with us?"

"Get out of my way!" Davina puts one of her hands out and the man immediately starts contorting in pain, falling to his knees as he clutches his head. His mates, who hadn't been far behind, come forth, rounding them up.

Kol grabs a hold of her arm and pulls her behind him. He has no idea what these men's orders are, but he  _ hopes _ his psycho brother didn't tell them to kill him as well. "Can you do that to the rest of them, or...?"

Davina shakes her head nervously. "Not all at once."

_ Well, fuck. _ How are the two of them supposed to fight a bunch of werewolves on steroids? He senses Davina shifting uncomfortably behind him; she's definitely scared now. And Kol is thoroughly pissed off.

When the lad she just attacked stands up again, gritting his teeth and ready to launch at her, Kol sees red. This brute is truly going to attack a young girl like this? What kind of sadist animal has his mother been grooming at that cemetery? So disgusted by her blood-sucking children and now look at her, empowering a bunch of homicidal maniacs.

He takes a step towards him, his fist connecting to the man's jaw in a perfect jab. But he seems to have terribly underestimated how strong those wolves are, because the guy spits out blood and then grabs Kol by his arms, sending him flying across the bar as though he were a rock — and not even a particularly heavy one.

He hits the bottle cabinet behind the bar and drops down on the floor with a painful thud. For a second, he sees nothing but white, everything around him spinning crazily. He grits his teeth, grunting, trying to get his bearings and failing miserably. Damn this stupid, fragile mortal body. Kol rolls over onto his stomach, feeling something hot trailing down his face. When he lifts his hand to touch the spot, he gets a sharp stab of pain on his head. It's blood. He must have a nasty cut there.

While he tries to pull himself together and push off the ground, he can only understand parts of what he's hearing. The men are all grumbling, and then Davina is — chanting? Is that what she's doing? A spell? He cannot pick up on what she's saying, but her voice grows more and more desperate by the line. And then she screams.

With a groan, Kol finally manages to pull himself up, using the bar for support, grabbing a bottle on his way, ready to use it at whoever is closest, but a shadowy figure flashes into the bar and rips the men away from her as though they’re but insects.

He blinks a few times, the scene slowly coming into focus, and when it finally does...  _ Well, fuck me. _ His jaw goes slack, his eyes bulging almost comically with a mix of terror and shock. He must've hit his head harder than he thought, because... It can't be. It's just not possible.

Why the bloody hell would  _ Mikael _ be rescuing Davina?

"You filthy dogs," his father barks at the werewolves with his characteristic hatred for the lot of them. The mere sound of his voice sends an ice cold shiver down Kol's spine. He spent  _ centuries _ running away from that man, terrified of the day he'd listen to that voice again. And now here he is, in flesh and blood.

Kol is paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch as his  _ dead _ father tears through the werewolves, ripping out heads and hearts as he waltzes across the room. One of them dodges him and goes straight for Davina, pinning her to the ground. She yells again, and Mikael simply stands there, smiling.

"Well, now," he says, all amusement. "That's an interesting turn of events." He walks over to her, snaps the wolf's neck, and then lifts her off the ground none too gently. "I'm going to enjoy this, girl."

_ What the fuck? _ Was he not just saving her ass now? Why is he bearing his fangs at her? None of this makes any sense. And before Kol can even break out of his shock to try and help her, someone else storms in, shoving Mikael violently away from the little witch.

"Father," Elijah says, all color drained off his face. He looks truly frightened, as though he's seen a ghost straight out of some nightmare of his, an unbecoming expression that Kol cannot remember having seen many times on his unflappable brother.

"Hello, son," Mikael says, quickly composing himself. "I'd hoped to see your brother first, but we have some unfinished business as well."

The two of them start fighting, exchanging punches as they each try to dodge the other's attack. Mikael clearly has the upper hand against Elijah, who's way too distressed to properly concentrate. Kol feels a bit of a sting somewhere, like maybe he should do something — help Davina, or maybe Elijah — but his legs just won't move. Whether it's some sort of self-preservation instinct kicking in or a lingering effect of his head injury, he can't tell. He’s now prone to things such as  _ concussions _ .

"We'll get you out of here right now." Kol's face turns to see that Marcel has come in through the back door and rushed to Davina's aid.

"No, Marcel," she says. "I need my bracelet. I can use it to control him."

_ The what now? _ Kol frowns, trying to piece together the information he just got. Davina Claire is  _ controlling _ Mikael? The Destroyer is the secret weapon she's been keeping at the church?

_ Fuck. Me. _

A painful grunt from Elijah sends his attention to the other side of the room again, and he gasps when he sees that not only Davina has Mikael, but  _ Mikael _ has the white oak stake — and is well on his way to plunging it into Elijah's chest. His brother's face has gone white now as he tries to keep their father from piercing his heart, but he's too weak to fight Mikael off. Red spreads on Elijah's shirt, and with a dark twinge, Kol realizes Elijah is going to die.

"Stop!" Davina's voice booms across the bar. Obediently, Mikael does, cursing under his breath. "Go back, now," she commands, touching a shiny golden bracelet.

As though he were a puppy, Mikael puts down the stake and blurs off into the night. Davina exchanges a nervous look with Marcel, and the vampire lifts her up and flashes away as well.

Kol hears as Elijah slowly pulls himself up, his composure still clearly affected by what just happened. He touches the spot on his chest where the white oak stake had just been a second before, the bloodied hole still visible under his fingers. And then, as though in a snap, he seems to take notice of the lad standing behind the bar, watching him wide-eyed and with his lips parted, trying to remember how to breathe.

Elijah snaps back into his cool poise, his expression schooled into perfect nonchalance. "Something to say?"

"No." Kol shakes his head. "Not me, mate. Not a bloody thing."

"Good."

And then his brother whooshes out of sight.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

What was once witch sacred territory now stinks of werewolf. How low have the once proud covens of New Orleans fallen... That's what they get for listening to Esther Mikaelson's counsel. There’s never been a single thing that woman has ever touched that she hasn’t soiled and brought to ruin.

He expected to run into the mangy bunch that have kneeled to the witches, but he's genuinely surprised by how many of them there are. The situation is worse than he imagined. Klaus recognizes some of those wolves as part of those packs that gathered in the Bayou while Caroline was there, the ungrateful lot. But some of them are not even from around these areas. Maybe not even traveling with packs. Word must've gotten out of Louisiana that there's a witch offering moonlight rings to whoever pledges their allegiance to her cause. Klaus is not usually one to admit to mistakes, but it truly was a blasted day when he decided to forge those rings. The hell he's unleashed upon himself...

All the more reason for him to have a  _ chat _ with this girl,  _ Cassie _ . He'll be damned if he'll allow for a repeat of that bloody mess.

"Well, that's more like it," he says, a malicious smirk on his face as his voice rings loudly across the cemetery. He would love nothing more than to rip out the hearts of every single one of those flea-bitten mongrels. "Although I have to say I am rather disappointed at how many of my once formidable brethren have been neutered by a sixteen-year-old girl," he bites out the last part, full of venom. "Where is she, then? Where is this  _ witch _ who dares craft moonlight rings without my permission?"

For a moment, Klaus really does think the werewolves will jump him, the suicidal lot of them. Clearly they haven't been introduced. But then a smooth, melodic voice speaks, and they all immediately relax, stepping aside. "Niklaus," she says, a little smile tugging the corner of her lips as she walks towards him. "I've been expecting you."

Klaus is stunned into silence, taken aback by — well, everything. The way the girl seems to command the wolves without moving a single finger, the confidence with which she holds herself, the wickedness in her eyes. She looks impossibly young for someone with that kind of authority. A child, really. And yet... She had the audacity of calling him by his full name.

Something about this girl just rubs him in a terribly off way.

"Please," she continues, motioning towards the entrance to one of the tombs. "Join me for tea."

She doesn't wait for him to formally accept her invitation — and even though he suspects there's more to this girl than meets the eye, and she could very well be luring him to a trap, he follows.

Both Davina and Monique Deveraux were also Harvest girls, and however powerful, there was no doubt about their youthfulness. Even at the height of their madness, there was a certain naivety about them, a freshness that spoke of their lack of experience. But not this one. Even the way she walks seems meticulously thought-out - and oddly familiar.

As he follows her, Klaus wonders if it's possible that Genevieve found a way to return, possessing the fourth Harvest girl's body after Caroline killed her. It's unlikely, given how angry the witches were at her for failing to deliver the baby to their ancestors, but it would explain a lot.

She motions for him to take a seat by a small table that had been previously set — it seems like he really was expected, after all — while she uses magic to heat up water and serves two cups of tea.

"I must offer my condolences on the tragic loss of your child," she speaks, not a hint of earnestness in her voice, while she takes a seat across from him.

"Is this  _ tea _ your idea of a peace offering?"

"Chamomile has lots of healing properties." She sips from her cup. "Did you know it's also a flowering plant?"

"I did. The plants grew wild near my boyhood home. But neither the tea nor your botanical musings are of my interest. What I want to know is why you've taken upon yourself to forge new moonlight rings."

"I assumed it was obvious. An alliance between the wolves and the witches would restore a much needed balance to our home."

"That's a lofty goal for a teenage girl," he muses.

"Long ago, the witches and the wolves lived at peace. Then came the vampires, a plague made flesh, a curse on this earth." Her unwavering gaze flashes while she speaks, voice drenched in spite. "You have no humanity, and so you punish those who do. Witches have a coven, werewolves have a pack, and so we are a constant reminder of everything that you have forsaken. Creatures such as you will always hate the living, and so we will always have to defend ourselves. The rings merely level the playing field. If we are united, nothing can stand against us."

Klaus narrows his eyes at her dangerously, that old anger stirring at the pit of his stomach at the sheer hypocrisy of her speech. "It's interesting you should speak of humanity and unity. Beautiful words, for sure, that do not belong in the mouth of a witch whose coven persecuted and murdered one of your own when she committed no crimes. You tore a child from her mother, slit her throat and left her to die."

Cassie looks down at her cup, but seems otherwise completely unbothered. "I was sorry for Caroline. It was indeed awful what happened. But we never had anything against her, never meant for her to die — or worse, to become a vampire."

"Is that your brilliant excuse? You didn't  _ mean _ for her to die?"

"It's not an excuse, just facts. Caroline was a terrible collateral damage, poor girl."

"Yes. Poor girl." Klaus has to keep himself from ripping the smug dismissiveness off that girl's face with his fingers. How carelessly she speaks of Caroline as a  _ collateral damage _ . Doesn't even have the decency to be ashamed or sorry. But he should know better than to expect any apologies from this lot. They were at the heart of everything that's happened in New Orleans ever since he was brought back here and yet she dares to act as though his family is to be faulted for their downfall. Elijah should be here, listening to this, so he would understand why there's nothing wrong with slaughtering witches. They're all to blame. They should all be made to pay.

For now, however, he must keep his anger at bay. He still needs information from this one.

"You have a very ambitious strategy," he shifts the conversation away from the rockier shores. "But allow me to offer a few words of advice, if I may be so bold. New Orleans is a vicious place, and your enemies are everywhere. Behind your back... Before your eyes... You will need to remain vigilant against those who would seek to destroy you, some of whom you may never see coming."

"I've already begun to take precautions," Cassie says in a condescending tone, as though she is the adult talking to a child. "In fact, I'm taking them as we speak."

Klaus looks down at his tea cup again, a disturbing idea scratching at the back of his mind. "Chamomile... It's the same tea my mother always made every single night. How I loathed it."

"Would you have preferred mint?"

"You know, she was insane... My mother." Cassie squints her eyes at him, a muscle on her jaw twitching almost imperceptibly. "No, it's true. She believed we were all  _ abominations _ . A curse on this earth stretched out over generations, was how she put it. But  _ she _ was the true monster. We never asked for any of this. She changed all her children, stole our innocence, condemned us to an eternity of bloodlust and then acted as if we were to blame."

"She sounds awful." For the first time this evening, it seems like he's touched a nerve with Cassie. Her dark eyes flash moodily as she shifts in her seat, her lips twisting into a displeased curve. "Are you building to a question, Niklaus?"

He props his elbows on the table, moving closer as he keeps his eyes fixed on hers — something which, he notices, suddenly seems to bother her. "You use my full name as though we are familiars. I find it insulting. Before she died, a witch revealed that your coven was under my mother's influence. Does that old hag speak to you now?"

"She doesn't have to. I know exactly what she would say." Cassie pauses, squaring her shoulders. "She would tell you to go to your room for being so rude!"

Klaus pushes himself up like a thunder, ready to sink his teeth into the girl's neck, a mix of rage and fear taking over him. His face is mere inches away as he stares down at her, but she does not flinch. Almost instantly, the tomb is flooded by her pets.

"It's all right," she says, calmly. "Niklaus was just leaving."

"I will happily kill them all."

"Go ahead," she shrugs. "Then you will have murdered members of the very pack you still hope to someday lead. But there's no need for bloodshed tonight." She slides her chair back, standing up. "We can always resume this discussion another day. Good night, Niklaus. We'll be speaking again soon."

Cassie turns on her heels and disappears behind her followers, while Klaus sinks his own nails into his palms.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah has completely lost track of how long he's been sitting in the dining room, a million thoughts crowded in his mind as he replays the events of this evening nonstop.

Mikael. Back from the dead. With the white oak stake.  _ Answering to Davina Claire. _

How did that happen?  _ When _ did that happen? How long has he been around and how the hell did the stake end up with him?

Not in Elijah's worst nightmares could he have imagined a situation such as this. Mikael should've been imploded along with the supernatural purgatory, and yet that little witch has managed to not only save his wretched soul, but return him to the land of the living. And now that hateful man is in possession of the one weapon that can kill all of his children.

Witches revolting, werewolves with moonlight rings and Mikael, the Destroyer. This is hell.

Niklaus storms in like a hurricane. Neither he nor Caroline were home when Elijah arrived, and it sparked a surge of irrational fear in him. With Mikael out there, no one is safe. He sent his brother a text, telling him to come home immediately, they had an urgent matter to discuss. He never said what it was about, but judging by his brother's behavior, it's almost as though he already knows.

"Niklaus -" he starts, pushing himself up his chair, but his brother cuts him off, taking a wine bottle and breaking the neck to drink directly from it.

"It's worse than we thought," he grits out, his eyes burning with anger. "I met the witch... Cassie. I studied her, her presence, the way she carried herself, the fervor with which she voiced her hatred of our kind. I looked into that girl's eyes and I swear to you, Elijah, she is not just guided by our mother. She  _ is _ our mother."

Elijah's mouth opens and closes without any sound coming out. He combs a hand through his hair, completely disgruntled. "What is happening?" he breathes out.

"I'm going to kill her. I will boil her bones and feed them to the dogs if that's what it takes. I will  _ eat _ her myself."

"Niklaus."

"What?!" he snaps. "What could possibly be more important than the return of our mother?!"

Elijah swallows. "Our father." He sees the moment the fire behind his brother's eyes quench, replaced by something akin to terror. His expression smooths into shock. "I saw him standing there in the flesh as you do now. He's alive. And enslaved with some spell cast by Davina. And..." Elijah hesitates. "He has the stake. If she chooses to release him..." Elijah trails off, leaves it at that. He doesn't have to explain to his brother what it means.

Klaus turns away from him, taking a couple of steps towards the door to the courtyard before he swigs from the bottle again. "There's only one question we need to ask, isn't there? Which of our parents do we kill first?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Not all the alcohol in his wine cellar will be enough to douse Klaus' incendiary mood. He feels like he could set fire to the whole bloody world right now and it still might not be enough to settle the turmoil inside of him.

Is there no end to his parents' cruelty? They're relentless in their hatred, in how much they can't stand to see their children thriving and finding even so much as a modicum of happiness.

As far as his mother knows, his daughter is gone. Caroline is a vampire. And  _ still _ she's abdicated from her eternal rest to  _ torment _ him. What more could she possibly want? How much more will he have to bleed for her to be satisfied? Will his suffering ever be  _ enough _ ?

And then there's Mikael. That devil. He tried to kill Caroline and his child, got his pathetic Viking arse served to him by a pregnant witch and now is back for more. It's obvious what his primary focus is — the same as it's always been: him - but he could've killed Elijah tonight. To think that, while he got distracted by Esther's antics, he could've lost his brother...

Oh, but they are playing with fire. They fooled him once, and should've taken the opportunity to finish him off while he was down. Whatever that girl Davina is up to, she's made a terrible mistake if her ultimate plan is to get him murdered. She should've attacked while he was weak. Now that his strength has been restored, they will never get a second shot. When they come for him, or for the people he loves, he will be ready, and they will suffer.

Right now, though, what he really needs is a drink. Or a hundred.

He's just on his way to grabbing a few bottles from the cellar to accompany him through the night when Caroline walks in — and not alone. With everything that happened, he nearly forgot he'd left her on a diplomatic mission in the Bayou. It sounded like a terrific idea at the time, but in light of the latest events... He's not so sure he appreciates the thought of her roaming free with strangers any longer. He doesn't trust any of them. In fact - he can count on one hand the number of people he trusts right now. No Crescents have made the cut.

"Take any of the rooms on the first floor, there's plenty," she’s saying to them, directing a group towards the east side of the compound.

Klaus' nostrils flare as he strides across the courtyard. "Are we running a kennel now?"

Caroline sighs. "I'll handle him, go on," she says evenly, waiting for the people to disappear into  _ his _ house before walking up to him.

"I'll have you know that your family is under siege," he grits out. "This is not the time for guests."

"If they're not with us, they're with the witches," she offers, simply. "You wanted me to step up, right? Lead them? This is me stepping up. They're scared and vulnerable out there. As long as they're here, they're on our side. We protect them, they protect us. That's what we wanted, isn’t it? Allies?"

Klaus clamps his mouth shut. Sometimes he really does hate how efficient and reasonable Caroline can be. She's done exactly as he'd hoped she would — only much faster than he could've ever expected. And she's also right; knowing that  _ the witches _ in this context means his disgraceful mother makes it even more imperative that they find a way to end her control over the werewolves. If there's one person who should never be allowed to assemble herself an army, that's Esther.

He breathes out in frustration, but a smile unwittingly breaks onto his face. Caroline is too good at this. "Well, it seems I'm a good influence on you, after all."

Caroline beams at him, all proud of herself. It's the most excited he's seen her in months. Klaus barely has it in him to break the awful news and see that smile go away again. So he doesn't.

"I don't see Oliver amongst them," he notes. "Am I to assume you finished him off at last?"

"Nope."

“Well, bummer."

"We made a deal. He'll pledge his loyalty to Cassie, join her inner circle, and report back to me everything he learns. In exchange, I’ll take care of his guys. Apparently getting a beating has made him reflect and he now cares about his pack again or something.”

Klaus' mouth curls up into such a big smile it barely fits. "You are brilliant." He cups her face with his hands, giving her a peck on the lips.

She frowns, huffing out a chuckle and staring at him as though he's gone insane. "Wow. Does that mean I get a gold star?"

"You get all the gold stars in the world. Well done, sweetheart." He places a gentler kiss on her forehead, patting her on the back and then continues on his way to the cellar.

Caroline's feat offers him some food for thought. Having Oliver working as a double agent — assuming he can be trusted, that is — might be invaluable. At least his history will give Esther no reason to doubt him. It's in times like these that Klaus has the absolute certainty there was no way he would ever not fall in love with Caroline Forbes. She's perfect in every way.

Having said that... Yet one more reminder of what's at stake here. He needs to keep that woman protected at all costs. He's failed her once; he will not do it again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Some two hundred years ago, Elijah deliberately gave up on something that had come to mean a great deal to him in the name of his eternal quest for Niklaus' redemption.

His mind reels as these long buried threads of memory suddenly come alive again. When Niklaus took Marcel home with him, he thought his brother had gone mad. A man as wild and reckless as him, who could hardly reign himself in, volunteering to foster a  _ child _ . It was not only a ludicrous idea, it was also dangerous. Elijah thought he'd tire of the boy in a matter of weeks and either put him back where he'd found him, thus dooming Marcel to suffer a terrible death at the hands of his biological father, or kill him himself. Elijah was wrong.

He never truly understood what was it that caused Niklaus to bond so deeply and so fast with that child, but the two of them became close. Despite the fact his brother never truly tamed the sharper edges of his personality, he did soften somewhat in the company of the boy. Suddenly, Niklaus was teaching Marcel about sword fight and duels, taking him out on hunts, telling him stories of the old world, clothing and feeding him with the best there was. He treated Marcel more kindly than he did Elijah or Rebekah, in fact. It was... Interesting, to say the least. But also quite inspiring.

As time went by and it became clear that Marcel wasn't just a hasty distraction, Elijah decided to embrace the boy as well, make him a part of their family. He never expected to grow so attached to a child, but so he did. Marcellus was bright and curious, had a quiet, polite exterior, but such a fierce and passionate soul. His thousand-watt smile was enchanting even then. Elijah began to teach him how to read, school him in the arts of literature and music. They bonded easily over Marcel's discovered love for the theater and the piano, and soon the two of them were spending large amounts of time together.

Niklaus... Didn't take very kindly to it.

The closer Elijah became to his adopted son, the bitterer and unrulier Klaus became. He grew jealous and angry, feeling excluded and left out despite the fact no one had ever pushed him away. His possessive nature meant he'd wanted to keep Marcel all to himself, and when he realized the boy had grown fond of his siblings in just the same way, he went mad.

His first attitude was to undagger Kol, who'd been locked in a box since they left Europe a century before because his lack of restraint, tearing through entire cities indiscriminately, had Mikael constantly on their track. A hundred years of sleep didn't quench their younger brother's bestial behavior, and it sent Nikaus right back to wreaking havoc all around the French Quarter - and worse. The two of them would go on killing sprees together, often luring their victims to the compound and slaughtering them right in front of Marcel's horrified eyes. Kol had a particular taste for reenacting Shakespearean tragedies — the bloodiest parts, of course — with compelled people with Marcel as an audience. Of course the boy knew what they were, he'd seen them feed, but what Niklaus and Kol were doing was... Monstrous, especially to a child, even one who'd experienced as much death and torture as Marcellus.

In that moment, Elijah realized he had a choice to make. Nothing he could do would ever convince his brother to curb his primal instincts... But Marcel could. He'd seen it, how much Niklaus cared for the boy, how softer he'd become for his benefit. Even his jealousy spoke of a deep-rooted affection, unlike nothing Elijah had seen Niklaus feel for anyone, especially a mortal, in centuries. Marcel, he knew, held the key to Klaus' troubled heart. If he refused to acknowledge there was a part for him to play in that story, it would not only cost him his brother, who would descend into his old patterns of self-destructive bloodlust, it would also, in the long run, ruin Marcel.

So the first thing Elijah did, with a heavy weight in his chest, was return Kol to his deep slumber, safely in his casket, where he couldn't hurt anyone. As long as he was around, he would always instill a sense of raucous adventure in Niklaus, and that Elijah would not allow. Not when they had such a unique opportunity to finally make him see the light. A fatherly love could be exactly what Klaus needed to have his soul purged of all the evil caused by Mikael. Kol's wretched behavior only served to steer Niklaus from the auspicious path. Elijah felt terribly guilty, but he could only handle one psychotic sibling at a time. If he could fix Niklaus, then perhaps he'd be able to do the same for Kol, wake him up again once their family had better days. It was no excuse, and earning his little brother's forgiveness would not be easy, but... It felt like it was worth it.

The second thing Elijah did, however, was the one that hurt the most. He started treating Marcel with cold detachment. Didn't take him to the theater anymore, didn't listen when he wanted to recite Shakespeare, didn't discuss books or poems with him when he came all wide-eyed and excited to talk about his findings digging through the library. There were no more lessons, no more piano. Whenever Marcel came to him, Elijah would send him off, claiming to not have time for the silliness of a child.

Breaking Marcellus' heart left a dent on his soul. He spent less than a year as his tutor, but it was enough for him to taste something awful in his mouth when he saw the disappointment in that child's eyes. But alas, his plan worked.

Klaus took notice of the fact Marcel had gone sad and mopey, while Elijah no longer dedicated any time to him. He welcomed the boy under his sole care once more, with gusto. The precious bond between them was restored and strengthened, father and son.

In the end, of course, it was all for nothing. His history with Marcel repeated itself years later with Rebekah, and his sister never showed the same disposition for selflessness, at least not in the name of Niklaus. Marcel fell in love with her, she fell in love with him, and together the two of them caused the downfall of the entire family when they summoned Mikael to New Orleans.

The reason those memories have resurfaced is because Elijah realizes all of a sudden, as he watches Caroline arriving from the Bayou with her Crescent wolves, that he finds himself in a similar situation now as he did then, with a choice to make. He once had to give up on Marcel... Now he must do the same with her.

All these months, he wanted nothing more than to help Caroline find her bearings as a vampire, to make her feel comfortable in her new skin, without losing touch with her true essence, with the things that made her heart beat as a mortal, but it seems his approach to it did nothing but cause her pain and suffering, whilst Niklaus' enabling ways, for some reason, have empowered her, bringing some of that old sparkle back to her eyes. She looks... Excited,  _ alive _ , right back in her element. Not yet fully herself, perhaps, but miles away from the person Elijah saw in that bloody bathroom just this morning. And all it took was one afternoon with Klaus in the Bayou.

They'd found a good dynamic for the family when Caroline returned to the compound after her stint in the swamp, but everything has changed since then. Maybe... Maybe it's time Elijah understands that, as before, with Marcel, the best thing for both Caroline and Niklaus is that he removes himself from the picture. If it brings the two of them closer together, if it helps them find their way again, then it must be done.

Elijah has a strong nurturing nature when it comes to his family, especially where Niklaus is concerned. He can't really help it. After everything they've been through, he feels that he has to be the one who holds the two of them back from the abyss. But the truth is... He is not strong enough. And he cannot let Caroline fall out of selfishness. He would never forgive himself.

Sometimes, loving someone means knowing when it's time to let them go.

Elijah takes a deep breath, letting the decision settle, heavy, weighted.  _ It's for the best _ , he tells himself.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he has to smile at the coincidence. It's Marcel, asking him to meet him in Algiers. If Elijah believed in such things, he'd say this is what a divine sign looks like.

As he goes down the stairs, Caroline is still there, talking to some of the wolves who are asking her about bathrooms and the kitchen, but when she sees him, she stops and smiles. It sends a pang shooting through him.

"Well, it seems you two have your hands full," he says.

"Us two?" she asks, her brow furrowing lightly. "Are you going somewhere?"

Elijah glances swiftly at the werewolves, then back at her. "To be perfectly honest with you... The presence of all these people here... It's a little much."

Caroline's smile drops. She looks crestfallen all of a sudden, when she'd been so proud of herself while speaking to his brother. This, right there, is the exact same look he saw in young Marcellus' eyes all those years ago. The exact moment Elijah's heart breaks. His poker face never wavers, though, his expression perfectly unaffected.

"Elijah, I just -"

"No. It's quite alright. Perhaps it's for the best. You should be with friends, after all. If you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

He doesn't wait a second longer before he spins on his heels and marches out of the compound, lest he cracks under the strain.

Elijah meets Marcel on a street in Algiers, where he's watching a girl playing the violin. It takes him a moment to realize it's the same girl he saw with Marcel the other day, the one he'd picked to be a part of his new vampire squad. She struck Elijah as brutish and severe then, and yet the tunes she plays are marvelously delicate, with such powerful melancholia, her every move perfect in its careful calculation. She's quite talented.

"Davina's nowhere to be found. She wasn't in the attic, wasn't anywhere near the Lycée either," Marcel speaks after a long moment. Frankly, Elijah would be fine just standing here and listening to her play her violin. But, as always, there are unpleasant matters to address.

"I have people looking all over the city. She is gone. No doubt to protect Mikael while he recovers from the wounds he sustained."

"She's scared. What did you expect?"

"Marcellus, if I discover that you had even the slightest suspicion that she brought father back -"

"Yeah, what?" Marcel scoffs, turning around to face him. "You gonna threaten me? My people? Get in line. The witches hate us, the wolves can kill us any time they like. I can't even go into the Quarter without risking my damn life, and I used to run that place. And now Mikael's back, the vampire who hunts vampires. You really think that works in my favor now? I barely have anyone wanting to join in as it is. You want my help finding Davina, I need to know where you stand. Now, Klaus is on team wolf. What are you?"

"I don't do teams."

"I'm sorry, man, but that's not an option. See, you're an Original. Every vampire that's ever been sired is an extension of you and your family. People look up to you. Now, you can walk away from that and side with Klaus and the wolves, but your brother is half wolf and even Caroline has a weird connection. You're not one of them and you will never be. You want allies, right? Well, look around." He opens his arms, gesturing towards the people out on the street. Elijah realizes — the girl is not the only one who'd been at that rookie rally earlier. Many of the others are there as well. "This is ground zero for a new vampire community. You may think that you're better than us, but we're all you've got."

Elijah's eyes flicker away from Marcel, to the girl still playing her music. "And why would I want to play benefactor to a collection of lost children?"

Marcel lets out a short, wan laugh. "That's right. You never were any good with children." Elijah's lips curl up into a tiny, bitter smile, as he does his best to keep the stabbing guilt from showing. Any other day and this remark wouldn't have hurt so much. Today, however... "Like it or not, Elijah, vampires exist because of you. We're only here because you are."

Marcel steps over to the girl, standing behind her. She puts her violin down and crouches to place the instrument in its case with the same kind of gentle care she used to play. This is a true musician, one whose instrument is but an extension of herself. Elijah can at least admire that.

When she stands up again, Marcel places both his hands on her shoulders. "These folks are gonna need your help," he continues, looking at him before exchanging a glance with the girl. She nods her head once and then, in a swift move, Marcel breaks her neck, carefully laying her dead body down on the ground. "Her name is Gia. I fed her my blood a few hours ago." He stands up again, staring Elijah dead in the eye. "When she wakes up, she's gonna need a mentor. I hope you do better with her than you did with me."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus is contemplating murder.

He's halfway through a bottle of bourbon, trying to decide whose neck he'd like to wrap his fingers around most: that wretched Harvest girl whose body currently hosts his mother, or Davina Claire. That little wench of a witch... That's what Klaus gets for listening to the soft-hearted fools he lives with. He should've gotten rid of Davina when he had the chance. It seems like they will all learn the hard way that showing weakness and being merciful towards your enemies can sometimes come back to haunt you in the most brutal ways.

"So..." Caroline speaks from the doorway, hauling him out of his thoughts. "Elijah is being all weird. You look like someone stole your candy bar. Don't tell me you've changed your mind and now you're upset I brought the wolves here, too."

Klaus' brow furrowed questioningly. "Too?"

Caroline shrugs, looking down at her shoes. "Elijah's not happy."

Klaus grunts in annoyance, taking a draught of his drink. Elijah needs to make up his mind already. He wants him to spend time with Caroline, then he doesn't. He wants her to be surrounded by her werewolf friends, then he complains about it. If there was one good thing to come out of this day, it was the proud smile on Caroline's face. Even that Elijah has found a way to dampen. And they say  _ he _ is the moody one. "My brother would do well to keep his petty grievances to himself."

"It's his home. He's allowed to have an opinion."

"I couldn't care less about what he thinks," Klaus grumbles, pouring himself another glass. This family, honestly...

Caroline crosses the room, coming to stand in front of him with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "Are you going to tell me what's going on or am I supposed to guess?"

Klaus lets out a deeply pained breath. "It seems we're about to have an undesired family gathering."

"Family gathering?"

He looks up at her, trying to come up with a way to break the news. His mother was the mastermind behind everything that happened to Caroline. That smile she had earlier today... Klaus has a feeling he won't be seeing much of it for the foreseeable future.

There is no way to make this more palatable, though, so he just ploughs on. "Esther has returned.”

Caroline's eyebrows slap together in confusion before her expression smooths out into sheer shock, a flicker of something dark crossing her blue eyes. "... What?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I met with the Harvest girl who's been inexplicably controlling not only all the witches but most of the werewolves herself. That  _ Cassie _ . I don't think she was particularly keen on concealing it from me, but I would recognize that despicable little saccharine smile anywhere."

"Your mother is possessing Cassie?"

"I don't know what in hell’s name that is. But one thing is for certain... It is her. Not in her flesh, but alive nonetheless."

Caroline's gaze drifts away from him. She seems lost while she slowly walks around the center table, sinking down on the couch next to Klaus. Her eyes are distant, haunted, and Klaus knows for a fact that, in that moment, a string of memories are being dredged up in her mind, the worst moments of her entire life unfurling before her. A pulse of anger courses through Klaus, grinding his teeth so hard his head pounds.

"Is she here to finish the job?" Caroline asks after a long stretch of silence. "Does she know about -"

"No. At least, I don't believe she does. She made all sorts of veiled threats, but none that involved our daughter."

"Then what does she want?"

"I assume we'll find out soon enough. But if I had to hazard a guess... Death. Annihilation. Filicide. The usual."

Caroline exhales, shaking her head. "This is like trying to kill a Hydra, isn't it? We rip off one head, two more appear. It never ends."

"Yes..." Klaus starts, looking down at his glass. "Two more. Esther is not the only one who's returned from the dead to torment us." Caroline's head snaps to him. "Mikael."

"Mikael? But... I thought he vanished with the Other Side, how...?"

"Who knows? At this point, this has become the new normal. Elijah had an unfortunate encounter with him. Almost ended up dead."

" _ What _ ?!”

Klaus knocks back the rest of his drink, finally lifting his gaze to her again. "He has the white oak stake."

Color drains off Caroline's cheeks, her eyes widening as her whole body stiffens next to him. "Klaus."

A bitter smile curls at his lips. "You don't have to tell me, love. I know I'm number one on his hit list. I've always been."

"Whose body is he inhabiting?"

"His own deplorable one. And it seems his return has, at least at first sight, nothing to do with Esther. He's answering to Davina Claire."

"Davina?" Caroline splutters. "What the fuck is going on?"

"I wish I knew."

"What are we gonna do?"

"What else?" he replies. "Kill them, of course. We've gotten quite good at murdering our parents over the years." Klaus pauses, considering his next words. "Caroline... To get to us — Elijah and myself — they will try to get to you first. They've made you a target before, and now you're a vampire. Perhaps..." He hesitates, stumbling on his own tongue and the cold fear coiling around his guts. "Perhaps you should consider going back to Mystic Falls. At least for the time being."

Caroline peers at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Maybe I should," she concedes. "But that's exactly why I won't. I can't walk out on you and Elijah like this."

"This is our problem, Caroline. You don't have to suffer for our family's millennium-old brawls any more than you already have."

"Well... After being here for over a year, and everything that's happened... I kind of started to think of myself as part of the family," she offers, her voice pitched soft.

Klaus realizes she's trying to humor him, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. But he can't return her lightness, not when his heart hangs heavy with concern. "Being a Mikaelson has never brought anything good to anyone."

"It's brought at least one good thing to me. And I'm more than motivated to get back at the people who would have taken that away."

Her eyes burn into his with sheer determination. She is so brave, his Caroline... Which is exactly what makes him so afraid. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so courageous..." He reaches out, touching the side of her face, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin of her jaw. "If anything happens to you... If this ends like it did last time..."

Caroline leans forward, a predatory grin as she presses her lips to his. Despite the demons floating about in his head and the worry consuming him, Klaus allows a fraction of the tension to ease off his shoulders, closing his eyes. "Don't worry about me," Caroline whispers to him as she pulls slightly away. "I'll make them regret the day they gave me super strength and sharp teeth."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to know what you guys think about the inclusion of Kol. It took me some time to find a voice for him and I'm not sure I nailed it. This is getting too complicated, too many characters. lol A question, if you're willing to answer: which of the Mikaelson POVs in this story (and the previous one) do you guys enjoy more? I'm honestly curious.


	3. S02E03 Every Mother's Son

Breakfast chases Caroline all the way to her room.

She's pulling on a shirt over her head when the smell of fresh sweets and warm bread wafts inside like a charm, flooding her heightened senses. Her stomach rumbles. The sensation is almost alien; Caroline hasn't felt hungry for normal food in ages. She still eats, mostly out of habit or to force some much needed sense of normalcy into her, but all she craves these days is blood. The comfortable familiarity of a hunger that starts in her stomach rather than in the darkest pit of her soul is just too good to resist.

With a lift in her step, she walks downstairs to find the table at the courtyard has been nicely set with a varied assortment of treats and juices, a beautiful flowery ornament in the middle. It all looks very fancy, straight out of a French bakery. This has Klaus written all over it, but she has no idea what the occasion might be.

As though summoned, he walks out into the courtyard. "What's going on here?" he demands, his tone indicating he's fallen out of bed in his default cranky mood of late. The revelation that his mother and father have been brought back from hell has left him on edge all week. Caroline doesn’t blame him, though, not for this, anyway. The situation does warrant a voluptuous degree of animosity. Klaus has been walking around with a permanent frown, expecting Esther to waltz in through the front gate any second.

So far, there's been no signs of either Mikael or Esther.  _ Cassie _ has apparently gone into hiding after coming out to her son and hasn't been spotted anywhere in the French Quarter. Klaus said she mentioned she was taking  _ precautions _ against her enemies, whatever that may be. Nothing good, Caroline is certain. Davina has also vanished after the skirmish in Rousseau’s, and not even Marcel can grab a hold of her. Caroline reached out to Cami, to see if she could find out what was going on, but Davina hasn't been taking anyone's calls, probably assuming that everyone is working for the Original family, which is… Not entirely wrong, to be honest. But not entirely right either.

The last thing Caroline would do is disclose her location to Klaus. Davina's summoning of Mikael screams of hostility, but still she refuses to believe that girl is sincerely trying to unleash hell on earth. If anything, she's in as much trouble as the rest of them. Mikael makes no friends, no allies. He's ruthless. If Davina thought Klaus was a nightmare, she’s in for a surprise. Wherever she is, Caroline hopes she's safe. Even if she has a way to control Mikael, the tiniest slip can cost her life with that monster. And that white oak stake puts Caroline’s teeth on edge. Any day now Mikael could come knocking on their door, ready to plunge that thing into his sons' hearts. Klaus is not the only one losing sleep over it, that's for sure.

Maybe the ritzy breakfast is his way of trying to improve everyone's humor, starting with his own.

"Which restaurant is missing a compelled chef?" she asks as she pops a grape into her mouth.

"That’s certainly a card I played in the past, but I had no hand in this," he says as he joins her to inspect the table.

"Well, I guess we have Elijah to thank."

"This wasn't my doing," the oldest Mikaelson offers as he shows up on the second floor, coming down the stairs with the same questioning lines on his forehead as Caroline.

"Then where the did all this come from?"

She flinches when a silver platter at the center of the table suddenly quakes, a noise coming from inside as though there's something moving,  _ alive _ , in there. She takes a step back as Klaus removes the lid, revealing two little blackbirds. As soon as they realize they're free, the birds take off.

Klaus takes a little piece of paper that was folded on the tray. As he reads it, his entire face darkens. "An invitation from our mother."

Caroline's frown deepens. The last time Esther went around sending invitations, it was a set-up to put in motion her plan to murder all her children. "An invitation to what?"

Klaus shows her the paper.  _ Dinner at yours. 8pm _ .

Well, fuck.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Klaus was little, he would sometimes hide from Mikael in the woods, pretend he'd gotten lost, so he wouldn't have to go out hunting with him and his brothers. In his father's eyes, he could never do anything right, no matter how hard he tried. Mikael had very little tolerance for what he deemed as weakness from any of his children, but Niklaus' was particularly vexing. Not rarely he'd get a thorough beating for letting a hare escape or accidently scaring away a pheasant. Sometimes he'd take the blame even if he hadn't been the one to do it.

_ You breathe too loud. You move too clumsy. You think too slow. You're not good at anything but weeping and cowering behind your mother's skirts. Nothing but a shame to this family. Maybe you should stay in the village and learn how to knit with your sister. _

One time, he was playing with his siblings when his mother called them in for lunch. Klaus knew that as soon as they were done eating, Mikael would expect him, Finn, Elijah and Kol to join him on a hunt. So instead of going in, and despite being ravenous, he ran away.

His mother came to find him an hour later, somehow knowing exactly where he would be. That was the first time she told him about her bloody starlings, the hideous birds she brought with her when they crossed the Ocean and set free into the forest once the family had settled.

When Esther was a little girl, her mother taught a tune to the starlings she used to feed. And since they mimic each other's songs, soon enough every starling in the forest was singing that same tune. She'd brought those same birds to the woods they then lived in.  _ Whenever you hear one sing, Niklaus, remember I'm with you. Always and forever. _

Back then, that had been a comfort. Whenever he was afraid, he would close his eyes and listen to the starlings. It made him feel safe. Protected. Now, those same birds are a cursed threat. It no longer brings him any relief, but rather makes him see red. An ominous messenger of a catastrophe to come. Klaus would gladly cause the extinction of these blasted birds.

He's been pacing around his room, ranting and rambling incoherently, ever since they found that unsavory surprise right in the heart of their home - exposing just how vulnerable they are. Caroline followed him up, trying to reason with him, but she seems to have realized Klaus wasn't listening to much of anything she said and gave up.

He steps out into the balcony to get some air, and when he walks back into his room, his mother's  _ invitation _ firmly crumpled in his hand, he finds her lying down on his bed, with her arms folded under her head as she stares at the ceiling. It's a true testament to just how beside himself he is that the sight doesn't affect him in ways it normally would. He hates his mother all the more for it.

"You know, I used to think I knew what a bad parent was," she muses, as though she'd been thinking about the matter while he rambled to the walls. Caroline pulls herself up into a sitting position, leaning back on her hands. "Yours are on a league of their own, though."

"We have enough enemies here, and now the war for our home is to be fought against my own bloody family," he bites out bitterly.

"Your wretched mother and her disciples tried to put a carving knife through our baby's heart. I will happily add to the body count." Caroline speaks with such an unaffected confidence that Klaus can't help but to smile. The two of them have been agreeing a lot lately when it comes to bloodshed. He's quite proud.

"You will do no such thing," his brother says as he enters the bedroom. Both Klaus and Caroline glare at him with the exact same intensity, but Elijah only gazes at him as he speaks. "Esther is a master in the art of possession. We know whose body she currently inhabits. We must decipher her intentions before she finds a new host and we lose track of her."

"Her last invitation was an assassination attempt on all her children," Klaus counters. "I think we can assume her intentions are decidedly foul."

"Well, then." Elijah checks his watch. "We have this afternoon to prepare for the worst."

As swiftly as he came in, he walks off, not sparing a single glance at Caroline. There's something strange going on there and Klaus is yet to figure out what. It all goes back to the day she invited her werewolf friends to take refuge at their place. She said Elijah didn't appreciate it, but his brother never expressed any displeasures to him. He has, however, been avoiding Caroline. She says the only quarrel she had with Elijah was regarding her witch-killing spree, but Klaus knows for a fact he was concerned, not angry. His behavior just doesn't make any sense.

"Am I invisible?" Caroline questions, clearly vexed by Elijah's continuous disregard.

Klaus arches his eyebrows at her. "Bloom is off the rose, apparently."

"Oh, ha ha," she derides, rolling her eyes. "Why is he like that?"

"You'll have to ask him, love. I have enough mood swings of my own to worry about Elijah's."

She puffs out indignantly, but Klaus merely offers her a smile before he follows his brother out. He means what he said; any other time and he would be deeply interested in solving the puzzle of Elijah's behavior, but right now there are far more important things at stake. The two of them need to work on a plan - and he has a dinner party to arrange.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The first unpleasant thing Elijah learns about Marcel's new baby vampire, Gia, is that she likes to talk. A  _ lot _ .

For some inexplicable reason, Marcellus has thrusted her education onto him without him ever giving any indication that he'd be the slightest bit interested in mentoring new vampires, something he's never willingly done before in his life, and that he has most recently confirmed to be terrible at. Just ask Caroline. It appears even Niklaus is a better teacher, a true testament to just how pitiful Elijah guidance is. Still, Marcel seems to be in some mysterious crusade for his support, and in his deviant mind, having Gia follow him around is the way to get it.

It seems everyone in this city has lost their minds.

With all the mounting, pressing problems he has rattling away in his head, the last thing he needs is a rookie vampire at his heels. What part of his very clear distasteful demeanor towards the riff raff that usually follows Marcel around does he find hard to understand? Call him an elitist; he'll hardly blush. After a thousand years on this earth, he's reserved himself the right to be picky with his company. The sad little strays Marcel enjoys collecting are definitely not his type.

Still, he finds himself without much of a choice - and he can bet Marcel was counting on just that. Almost like he could foretell this moment would arise, sooner rather than later.

Elijah left Niklaus in charge of making the appropriate arrangements for dinner and went out to hopefully put a plan in place before 8 pm this evening. It's a simple one, but made challenging due to an absence of sources to resort to, hence the need for Marcel's unfortunate aid. They are after a soul branding spell. This way, if their mother ever jumps into another host, they will be able to recognize her. The better option would be, of course, to cast a spell forbidding her from jumping bodies altogether, so they could finish her once and for all. But that is more complicated, takes time and preparation, not to mention it requires the right witch, all things they don’t have. Soul branding is easier in comparison - and faster. Elijah's seen it done before. A moderately competent witch, familiar with the enchantment, can have it done in less than an hour. Time, here, is of the essence. Especially since he needs to be back home before dinner.

As predicted, Marcel does have access to a witch who can help, which he confirms when he spots the brand new daylight ring gleaming on Gia's finger. With Davina currently missing, and considering he’s been banned the French Quarter, it must be someone in Algiers, which works perfectly for Elijah. The further away from his mother's spying eyes they conduct this, the better.

"My memory is a little shaky, though," Marcel told him. "Lucky for you, I know someone who can help. Gia, why don't you take Elijah to meet our friend Lenore?"

"Is this your idea of a joke?" Elijah asked him. "I can assure you I'm not amused." If only he knew how short-tempered Elijah has been lately... Rivaling Niklaus, he might say.

"I'm not laughing. No one's laughing. There's nothing funny about what's going on. Mikael's back, witches are causing chaos. It just seems like you need all the friends you can get."

And that was how he ended up with a petite, dark haired vampire rambling nonstop after him for five whole minutes that have felt like an hour. His complete lack of participation hasn't discouraged her at all. Turns out she can do all the talking by herself. The only reason Elijah hasn't snapped at her yet is because he needs her, and he has a feeling this one also comes with a temper. Perhaps not one as bad as his currently is, but still. Brusque enough that she would definitely turn around and stalk back to Marcel's to whine about Elijah. Being snippy will get him nothing - but neither will being nice, lest this girl starts to think he actually wants to be her  _ friend _ , or take part in this so called  _ training _ Marcel expects him to do. People seem to mistake Elijah's politeness for friendliness a lot. Perhaps he should try to be more like Niklaus. His brother certainly never gets confused for a do-gooder.

As if the circumstances and the company weren’t bad enough, he's been of a particularly sour disposition lately. Elijah didn't think keeping his distance from Caroline would be so difficult. Or maybe he did, he just thought he'd be better at it. Their familial issues aside, she and Niklaus have been getting along wonderfully, proving his point that his presence was disruptive rather than helpful. He hasn't exactly been rude to her, just... Dismissively neutral. He's made himself scarce around the house whenever she's there, and has made it seem as though he's paying very little attention to whatever she says, even though he still hangs onto her every word. It's harder to do so when she's talking directly to him, occasions when Elijah's virtuosity at keeping his expression perfectly aloof comes in very handy.

He realizes she's upset, but it is for the best. Without him constantly there to judge her or occupy time she could otherwise be spending with his brother, she's blossomed more quickly in a matter of weeks than she did in months before. Granted, Niklaus had been in a much worse place as well, but still. He doesn't want to hinder her development or stand in the way of their happiness, as he has unwittingly done once before. It's just... Really hard to stay away from Caroline Forbes. And harder still to deliberately hurt her.

The only thing harder than both things, however, is listening to Gia as she tries to  _ connect _ to him.

Elijah thought he was getting himself a reprieve when he volunteered to go sort out the spell situation. Little did he know...

"You're not much a talker, huh?" Gia asks after ten whole seconds of silence that made Elijah briefly hopeful.

"I wonder what gave it away," he replies drily.

"That's no problem. Last guy I hung out with wouldn't shut up, so I guess I was due for a change."

"We're not  _ hanging out _ ," he adds the air quotes for emphasis. "Your task is to lead me to someone. Let's just do that, shall we?"

He picks up his pace, and only about registers a little grunt before he realizes she's stopped walking. "You wanna walk in silence, fine,” she spits out. “But you're going the wrong way."

Elijah stops, slowly turns around, fixing her under a stern look. He's known many people who would've run right about now, but Gia sticks out her chin and keeps her dark eyes level with his.

"Marcel believes I can instruct you,” he says flatly. “Here's a first lesson. Do your best not to waste my time."

She makes a face like she's biting her tongue not to snap back at him, and Elijah arches his eyebrows, wishing that she would. At least this should be interesting. But then she shakes her head, stalking off in the opposite direction.

Well, now they're talking.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

For someone who hates his mother, Klaus sure looks like he's trying to impress. He has cooks preparing dinner in the kitchen, has brought out the  _ finer _ china and has hired staff to set up the dining room. Caroline hopes to God that he's paying those people real money, at least.

This must be a Mikaelson thing, she thinks. Mikael put on an Opera show when he tried to murder his kids back in 1919. Esther threw a lavish ball just to get them all linked and ready for the slaughter. Klaus has been spitting fire all day but seems to be thoroughly invested in making the most of the occasion by offering a proper dinner party to welcome his mother at his own home. It’s passive-aggressive taken to a whole new level. These old undead vikings seem to operate in a different frequency.

"Skip the salad course, let's not make this dreadful evening any longer than it needs to be," he's telling one of the staff, who's holding out two bottles of what is likely  _ very _ expensive wine to choose from. "The Bordeaux with the main course, Port with the dessert."

"There's gonna be dessert?” Caroline marvels. “If my father came back from the dead and sent me an invitation to a dinner that  _ I _ had to throw at  _ my _ place  _ for him _ , I would use disposable dishes, paper cups, cheap wine and spit on all the pre-heated mac'n'cheese I'd serve."

"My mother may have ruined me for eternity, but she did not make me a savage."

Caroline hums derisively. "That's debatable." Klaus gives her a mock-glare as he starts setting napkins around the table, but the strain around his eyes show he’s more hassled by all this than he’s letting on. "Seriously, don't you think you're being a little...  _ nice _ ?"

"This is not for her benefit, it's for my own. If I'm going to have to sit through dinner with my mother, it better be a good one."

"Well, that makes more sense," she concedes. "I'm still petty, though. I'd totally put salt on her crème brûlée." The corner of Klaus' lips kick upward into a little amused smile. "Speaking of her... I have news from the front. I guess letting Oliver live paid off. He just called to inform that your mother is not working solo. She has a partner in crime, like a tight one. Another witch, a man."

"Building alliances in her quest to destroy us, I imagine. Nothing new. She coopted your doppelganger friend and her lackeys last time, did she not?"

Caroline considers objecting the way he refers to Elena and Stefan - Damon can go to hell, for all she cares - but refrains from doing so. He’s not  _ completely _ wrong. Elena did side with Esther against the Originals, and despite the fact she had very solid reasons to want Klaus gone at the time, it's pretty obvious now that the Mikaelson parents are  _ way _ worse than their children. Besides, Klaus is already on edge with the prospect of coming face to face with his mother once more, he doesn't need Caroline to annoy him further by defending the honor of her friends. It's one of those rare moments when she genuinely believes Klaus deserves to get some slack. As much as Caroline hates Esther with all her heart and wants nothing more than to wrap her hands around that woman's neck, she knows it's nothing compared to what Klaus feels for his own mother. She's had four months of terrible trauma; Klaus and Elijah have had a thousand years.

"I don't get it," she starts. "How come she hates you so much? She had six kids, it's not like she doesn't have the maternal gene."

"Seven, actually," Klaus corrects as he continues to fix the table setting to perfection. "She wasn't always a bad mother. I remember she was quite loving when I was a child. I believe at one time, she loved us all very much. One of her children died before I was born."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"It was before they came to the New World, the reason why they did it, in fact. She hardly ever spoke about it, but Finn was already born when it happened. It was a girl, she died of the plague. Apparently Mikael was very fond of her, if you can believe that. I think they were trying to forget it when they crossed the ocean. Years later, my little brother Henrik was killed by the werewolves in our village." Klaus takes a pause. His face remains perfectly impassive, but Caroline sees the shadow flickering across his eyes, even so many years later. "The loss of another child pushed my mother over the edge. She used her magic to turn us into immortals. I think that's probably when she loved us the most, so much so she refused to lose any of us ever again. But it was her undoing. It triggered a sequence of events that led to the reveal of her long-held secret."

"You," Caroline concludes and watches as a bitter smile creeps onto his lips.

"It was my birth father's pack that killed my little brother. Of course, when Mikael found out, he chased my real father and murdered him. I found his body in the woods. So my mother lost her lover, too."

Caroline gets a shudder at the pit of her stomach. The more she hears about the Mikaelsons' history, the more horrified she becomes. It's all made out of violence, betrayal and loss. So much loss. She can't even imagine what Klaus must've been like back then, before all the crazy took root, but she can see how he became what he is now. Recently turned into a vampire by his own mother, just finding out that he was the product of an affair, only to come across the body of his true father, brutally murdered by the man who'd raised and abused him all his life. Of course they've all lost it. There's no way anybody in that family would've ever turned out ok.

"No wonder she's crazy," Caroline mutters. "I'm out of my mind having just given away Eve. I can't imagine what I'd be like if she'd actually died."

"You know, my siblings used to tell each other she didn't hate us. That she hated herself for what we'd become. I think they believed that even after she tried to kill us all." Klaus keeps his eyes down on the table, a faraway look on his face.

If on the one hand Caroline can sort of understand the pain and the grief that drove Esther towards becoming a psychotic murderer, on the other, it just makes her hate the woman even more. She knows what it's like to lose a child, how impossibly huge and endless that pain is, and yet she would put her own son through that exact same trauma, taking away his daughter and having Caroline killed right in front of him. What kind of mother does that?

Klaus has definitely done his fair share of terrible things over the years, but the way he feels about his mother is perfectly justified. And Caroline can certainly understand the feeling. She is a vampire now because of Esther, lost her daughter because of her. And she has no doubt that that awful woman now wants to finish what she started all those years ago in Mystic Falls and put an end to Klaus as well.

Caroline will cut that bitch into tiny little pieces and have her for dinner before she lets her do that.

"Well," she says as she walks up to Klaus, wrapping her hands loosely around his neck. "I guess that makes her the wicked witch in our story. It'll be all the more satisfying when we melt her."

Klaus smiles, the hard lines on his face softening at last. "I like it when you talk dirty."

"I know." Her breath ghosts over Klaus' lips as she speaks, their noses brushing. She notices the moment the corner of his mouth turns mischievous, an altogether different kind of hunger in his eyes. Caroline touches her lips to his, just a quick peck, teasing - once, twice, and then Klaus' hand finds the back of her neck and he pulls her to him, mashing their mouths together in a proper kiss.

It starts out innocent enough, sweet and casual, but it escalates fast. The air between them simmers with sudden need as Klaus presses their bodies together, his fingers tracing a dangerous, burning pattern across Caroline’s skin. They stumble back until she hits something hard; Klaus' hands slide under her thighs as he pulls her up to sit on the table, never breaking contact. He settles easily between her legs, and Caroline lets out a breathy, raspy against his mouth, relishing the feel of his hands exploring the heat under her shirt, his chest pressed against hers as their tongues dance avidly together.

All she wanted was to make him relax a little, get his mind off those awful memories he'd dredged up. But this is fine, too. This is  _ incredible _ .

Klaus' hot mouth slides away from hers, leaving a wet trace down her neck, all the way to her collarbone, where he nibbles the soft hollow there with his human teeth. A delicious chill travels down her spine, and Caroline tilts her head to the other side, giving him better access, closing her eyes as a sinful sound escapes her.

"As much as I would  _ love _ to debauch you on our dining table..." he half-speaks, half grunts against her skin, taking her mouth in his once more. "I'm afraid I have a dinner to plan."

She captures that ridiculously obscene lower lip of his between her teeth, ripping a throaty sound out of Klaus that makes all the hair on her body stand to attention. "I think we can spare ten minutes..." She touches her forehead to his. "Or fifteen."

Klaus smirks, his fingertips following the line of her spine all the way up to her bra clasp - and then someone clears their throat. One of the staff guys is pointedly staring at the ceiling, his cheeks flaming red as he shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

Caroline snorts, feeling like a naughty teenager. She looks down at the table, all the pretty arrangements and the napkins Klaus meticulously disposed, and considers how satisfying it would be to mess the whole thing up and fuck him right there, knowing that his mother will be dining on that same table in a few hours. The thought is more than tempting, but she feels bad for the poor guy who'll have to wait outside until they're done before coming here to get the place ready. She's worked at way too many eccentric rich people's events in her life not to feel a bit of sympathy.

Caroline pushes Klaus away just enough so she can climb down, and before he can produce any complaints she takes his hand and drags him out of there and into the first empty room she can find.

They could both do with some  _ unwinding _ before tonight.

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It turns out that taking Gia along with him wasn't a complete disaster, after all.

She did bring him to the witch Lenore, as was promised. The woman owns a small convenience store in Algiers that has certainly seen better days. With some persuasion and an unnecessary amount of attitude for Elijah's taste, she agreed to perform the soul branding spell he requested. He could tell the woman harbors some hard feelings towards the French Quarter witches herself. Perhaps they might yet build a profitable partnership in the future.

"A certain someone - let's say, a witch - has a troublesome tendency of jumping into other bodies," he explained while he deposited a coin into her tips box. Judging by the dust on her shelves, she could certainly use the  _ incentive _ . He always feels so cheap when resorting to money for his transactions; it is so very pedestrian. Sometimes, however, a signed check is the quickest way to get the deal done. "When she does so again, I'd like to know into whom she jumps."

"That's a sacrificial spell," Lenore said. "I'm gonna need an item that's been spelled by the witch in question. And a python."

The spelled item is a bit tricky, but he's certain it can be arranged. With Niklaus' horder habits, he must've kept something from their mother. Now the python, quaint though it may be, should be easier to sort - so easy, in fact, he doesn't have to do it himself.

That's when he finally saw the silver lining in putting up with Gia's incessant rambling.

"Second lesson of the day: acquisition through mind compulsion. Go to a pet shop, get the python."

He left her grumbling about not knowing how to use compulsion when he walked out. Honestly, what kind of army is Marcellus building if he doesn't even teach them the basics?

Anyway, he's certain she'll figure it out. Despite being annoying, she seems rather resourceful - and smart enough not to cross an Original.

Now on to the first item on the list.

Elijah checks his wristwatch when he crosses the entrance to the compound. Just past six; they have less than two hours to get everything done. It's a tight schedule, but if they play this right, it should -

He stops when he sees Niklaus and Caroline emerging from the library; cocks his head just slightly when he notices a certain... Glow about them.

There's an undeniable skip in his brother's step as he shrugs on his jacket, several buttons on his shirt undone, while Caroline smooths down the wrinkles on her own top, her curls looking hopelessly tousled.

Elijah feels terribly awkward standing there, even though he has not intruded on anything. It's still oddly intimate, witnessing this sort of deeply contented  _ aura _ that revolves them. He can't really help the little stab of bitterness, though; there's a possibly deadly dinner party awaiting them in less than two hours, Elijah was out doing the dirty work, while the two of them were... Doing dirty work of a different - and far more pleasant - variety.

His disapproval must show on his face quite clearly, because when Caroline meets his eyes, her lips immediately draw into a displeased line. "What?" she demands. Fortunately, her phone starts ringing just then, dispensing the need for a response. "It's Oliver," she says, stepping aside to take the call.

He then turns to Niklaus, who's got an irritating dimpled smile plastered on his face. "You look rumpled,” Elijah remarks flatly.

"As one would."

"You're not very good at disguising it."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Whoever said I was trying?"

Elijah sighs. "Just change your clothes before dinner, will you?"

"Oh, don't look so offended, Elijah. I'm not a barbarian. I'll have a proper shower and brush my hair before mother gets here, lest she thinks that in addition to being a portent of all evil, I also lack basic manners."

Elijah can't help the little amused grin. The worst part is Niklaus is probably not wrong.

"Well, fuck," Caroline curses as she returns, a taut expression on her face. "Your Algiers witch is being held captive in the Quarter."

All of Elijah’s cautious optimism drains out of him at once.

"That's bloody perfect,” Niklaus grumbles, his brilliant mood quickly souring. "As usual, mother is a step ahead of us."

"Good news is, they left Oliver in charge of watching her," Caroline continues. "I'll go and get her to do the spell. What do I need?"

Elijah exchanges a look with his brother. "I don't think that's a good -" he starts speaking, but Caroline cuts him off with an impatient wave of her hand.

"No," she says harshly, a steely edge on her tone. "You don't get to ignore me for days and then act like you're all concerned. And you -" she turns to Klaus before he can offer his own two cents, which Elijah is certain would be the same as his. "Don't even start. Just once, please? Can you two trust that I will do something and it will get done or will I have to become a chimera for you to stop doubting me?"

Klaus lets out a resigned breath. "Trust and your substantial capabilities have never been the issue, love." He puts a hand inside his jacket and pulls out a necklace. It stirs a memory in Elijah, of when Niklaus was a child, all proud of the special gift mother had given him. He hadn’t seen that necklace in centuries. It's a simple leather strap with a bird carved out of wood. Not flashy or even particularly impressive at first glance, but Niklaus held on to it as though it was the most precious of jewels until the day he found the truth about Esther’s betrayal.

"One of the items required for the spell to be completed is something spelled by my mother. She gave me this as a protection charm,” he tells Caroline.

"Ok." She takes the necklace from him with near reverent care, probably understanding just how old it is. Museums across the world would give a fortune for an object such as this, forged by the first Viking settlers in the New World, centuries before the first colonies were established. "Thank you."

"Wait," Elijah calls out before she leaves.

"Elijah, I don't want to hear -"

"No. There is something else. A disciple of Marcel was instructed to fetch another ingredient. Ask for Gia."

Caroline nods once and then gets on with her mission. Elijah does not like this one bit, it reeks of a trap, but a rescue mission would disrupt all his plans. It's unlikely they'd be back before dinner time.

"What's the matter?" Niklaus inquires as he comes to stand beside him.

"Nothing," he replies curtly.

”Don’t try to deceive me, Elijah, I know you too well. A few days ago you were the one lecturing me on how distant I'd become, and now you barely speak to her."

"And you have issues with that, do you?"

"Not particularly. But clearly Caroline does."

Elijah simply ignores him, steering the conversation back to more important things. "You really think it's a smart idea to send her into mother's lair on her own?"

"Esther won't be there, she will be here, with us. I prefer Caroline to remain out of her sight for the time being. If she's not home, she can't come to dinner. Call me old fashioned, but I'm just not looking forward to introducing her to my mother."

That is good thinking, actually, and something that hadn't occurred to Elijah. "Didn't Oliver mention a partner in crime?"

"Yes, a witch. Caroline's gotten rather good at handling them." Klaus smirks with an impish kind of pride. "You should see how fast the rips out their hearts."

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Whatever magic the rendezvous with Caroline worked on Niklaus' mood, it was short-lived and has now thoroughly expired. His scowl has descended back into place, and his brother now looks the perfect picture of misery. Every bit the child who's been forced to dress up and behave for a social occasion when he'd rather be outside playing in the mud.

"Are these outfits really necessary?" he mumbles dispassionately when Elijah walks in carrying a bottle of wine. The first of several in what is likely going to be an endless evening.

He gives his brother a good once-over. The suit and dress shoes are fine, if not particularly to Elijah's taste, but the tie with a flamboyant arabesque pattern is simply dreadful. Still, it's an improvement. He came down wearing jeans, boots and a particularly old-looking Henley shirt, with those leather straps showing around his neck. Elijah twisted his lips in disapproval and sent him back to his room to change into something more appropriate. For someone who regards himself as such a refined artist, Niklaus certainly has a debatable sense of fashion, to say the least. At times, it needs to be straight out challenged. They have a reputation to uphold.

"Appearances are a way of showing respect, Niklaus," he replies with infinite patience while he pours them each a glass of wine. "Mother will be more likely to surrender her true intentions."

"I doubt her guard will drop just because I'm dressed like a bloody lawyer."

"We need every advantage we can get, brother. And fix that tie, will you? It's hideous enough as it is. One would think you're an uncivilized caveman who never learned how to tie a knot."

"You've always been the one who excelled at diplomacy. I don't care about tie knots. Or about showing respect towards backstabbing guests, for that matter. Just know that if she tries anything, I'll tear her new body to pieces."

There's a humorless laugh, and both of them whip their heads towards the doorway, where a man they've never seen before is standing with a shark-like smile on his face. Elijah feels Niklaus tensing up next to him, his own sense of peril ringing like little alarm bells.

Dark skinned, well dressed, elegant manners and a shimmer of mischief in his eyes that tugs at Elijah's perception in an odd way, begging him to remember someone he's never met before. At least he's pretty certain they've never met. Or... Have they?

The man clicks his tongue, shaking his head in an almost endearing manner. "You two haven't changed a bit," he speaks, the corners of his mouth turning cruel. "Linens and silk can't disguise your pathetic self-loathing, Elijah. And you, despite the arrogant façade, you're still the same paranoid little boy, full of hate and fear, Niklaus."

Elijah's frown deepens at the familiarity with which he addresses the two of them. "Forgive me. I don't believe I've had the displeasure."

The man tilts his head to the side. "You mean you don't recognize me? So much for the unshakable bonds of family, huh? Always and forever, indeed."

Niklaus stiffens beside him, his knuckles bleaching on the back of the chair he’s holding. "It's been a long time… Finn,” he spits out with scorn.

_ Finn _ ? Elijah's head snaps around at the man once more, wide eyed and slack-jawed. He has a proud, radiant smile on his face, which is nothing like Elijah remembers Finn, and yet, somehow... The haughtiness, the contempt, that holier-than-thou attitude... It  _ is _ Finn. A self-assured, intrepid version of Finn.

"Well, now that the introductions are out of the way..." The man -  _ Finn _ \- says, rubbing his hands together. "Let's eat."

Oh, this is going to be an even greater disaster than Elijah thought.

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"They worked her over pretty good," Oliver says, shifting uncomfortably and constantly looking over his shoulder while he shows Caroline to the witch, Lenore.

They beat her up and left her in chains, hanging from the wall in one of the tombs. Oliver is her guard for the evening. Neither Esther - or Cassie, or whoever she is - nor the witch helper he mentioned are anywhere to be seen, but there are werewolves and even some witches patrolling the cemetery outside.

These people are just  _ awful _ .

"Do they know she's working with us?"

"I don't know."

"What do they want with her?"

" _ I don't know _ . They don't tell me their plans, they just tell me what to do, and I don't ask questions."

Caroline puffs out, annoyed at Ollie’s lack of thoroughness in acquiring information, but not willing to waste any time chiding him about it right now. "We need to get her out of here."

She walks over to the woman, who seems to be out cold, and breaks the chains with a violent jerk. When she lets the witch down, a pitiful moan escapes her lips. "Hey, Lenore?" She grumbles incoherently again, holding her stomach. "It's gonna be ok. I promise."

"Well, then what?" Oliver asks. "They'll know I let her go. You asked me to infiltrate Cassie's coven, I'm not gonna blow my cover for some has-been hippie witch. No offense."

Lenore tries to lift her head to send him a look, but even that is costing her.

Caroline turns to Ollie, crossing her arms. "I can always make it look like you got jumped. You tell Cassie that Lenore was rescued by her people."

He scoffs. "Let me guess. You want to beat the hell out of me, make it look convincing?"

She shrugs. "If I said I wouldn't enjoy it, I'd be lying."

Oliver blows out a disgruntled breath, clicking his tongue. "Fine. Just... Not the face, ok?"

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"What an aromatic wine," Finn says as he lifts his glass to his face.

_ Finn _ .

If Klaus knew that he'd be showing up, he would've heeded Caroline's advice and not served one of his prized vintage wines.

"It was a challenge to find a pairing," Klaus speaks drily. "What wine goes well with treachery?"

Finn looks at him, a bemused smile on his face. At the same time Klaus can clearly see his brother in this man, he is completely different than he used to be. Well, not completely. Still crawling at their mother's feet like a dog starved for attention, it seems. Some things never change. But this self-assured poise... This is new. Finn did always believe himself to be a superior creature, blessed with morals and principles none of his siblings shared, but Klaus does not remember him having such... confidence. Elijah's self-loathing was nothing compared to his.

"Don't pout, brother," Finn says. "Tonight is meant to be a happy occasion."

"What exactly are we celebrating?" Elijah inquires, taking a seat to Klaus’ left, right beside Finn..

"My return, of course. Remember, I spent 900 years lying daggered in a box." Klaus grins unrepentantly at his judgemental glare. "I'm rather enjoying this new body, strolling about this lovely city that you've made your home. Do tell me, what did I miss? Regale me with your contributions to society. Medicine? Philosophy? Art, maybe?" Klaus rolls his eyes. Back for less than an hour and already boring the life out of him. Suddenly he remembers exactly why Finn was the one who never got undaggered. "Or have you two merely cut a path of destruction across time?"

"Last time we met, you were aiding our mother in annihilating the lot of us. Let's not throw stones in glass houses," Klaus says.

The waitress comes and sets another place on the table. Finn smiles at the girl, who nods, and Klaus realizes this was at his brother’s request. For a moment, he worries that Caroline will show up after all. If he didn't want her here before, now he wants it even less.

"I see you're confused," Finn starts. "I'll explain. Mother will sit at the head," he points towards the seat directly across from Klaus. "And as for the seat across from me... That's reserved for another of our clan. Care to wage an educated guess?"

Klaus' jaw clenches almost imperceptibly as he exchanges a swift glance with his brother - the one he actually likes - concerned that Finn might be referring to something even worse than Caroline joining them. He can't mean... No. He couldn't have found Rebekah. She's cloaked and far away from here.

"Or how about a paranoid one?" Finn offers.

Klaus scoffs, relaxing a little. "Well, there's no way Kol would listen to anything other than his own ego."

"And yet our mother has made such a compelling argument that even the wildest of us Mikaelsons has seen the error of his ways and accepted his new form with vigor. Change, dear brothers, is inevitable."

Isn't it grand? Their mother has returned from hell and brought Finn and Kol along with her. Just what Klaus needed right now - a complete family reunion when he is working so hard to cleanse the city of threats in order to bring his daughter back home. That reality just seems to get further and further away.

It begs the question, though... Just what exactly is Esther’s angle here? What does she  _ want _ ?

"You would dare face us as a mortal?" Klaus asks. "The only thing inevitable is your death." He throws the knife he’d been toying with, and it sinks into the back of the seat across from him - right where he wishes his dear mother's head was.

Finn pulls the knife out, unmoved by his threat. "I suppose the honor of carving should go to the oldest. We have much to discuss."

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Caroline watches every move Lenore makes with hawk eyes. She's never seen a soul branding spell being performed - sacrificial magic was really not her thing - but she can understand the principle behind it.

It's still a bit of a kick to the stomach to see a witch at work, though. She may be more comfortable in her skin now, better at controlling her instincts and all her new enhanced features, but it doesn't mean she's forgotten. A witch is what Caroline was always meant to be, it's in her heart. She misses the connection she used to share with the world, the vital energy that coursed through her like a current. The hollow left by her magic still lingers. She doesn't feel empty anymore, but she's not complete either. And seeing Lenore doing something that she might've been able to do herself four months ago... She can't help but envy the other woman.

Lenore stops her preparations, gripping the edge of the counter at her store as though she's suddenly feeling light-headed. She shuts her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose.

"Are you sure you don't want my blood?" Caroline asks for the tenth time. Lenore took some concoctions for the pain, but she's obviously not well.

"Vampire blood?" the woman practically spits out as she gathers her bearings, takes a sip of water and gets back to work. "No, thank you. What's your dog in this fight, anyway? You're not a Mikaelson."

"I... Sort of am, in spirit."

She stops again, fixing Caroline with an appraising look, as though only now connecting the dots. "The witch mother?"

"Not a witch anymore. But turned witch rescuer, apparently. Listen, can you do that spell or not?" she presses, trying to shift the conversation back to the point. "We're kind of on the clock here."

"After what that teenage bitch and her lackey did to me? I'll do any spell you want."

"Then why is it taking so long?"

"You want me to soul brand the resurrected spirit of a thousand-year-old witch. It's best I take my time and do it right. Hand me the snake, will you?"

Caroline makes a horrified face, and Lenore just bobs her head towards a basket on the corner. She can  _ hear _ the snake moving inside, coiling around itself; it gives her the creeps. Immortal or not, snakes are vicious things. With all the care in the world to keep the basket perfectly lidded and carrying it as far away from her body as she can, she picks it up and puts it down on the counter in front of Lenore. The witch cocks her an eyebrow.

"Don't judge. I don't like snakes."

While Lenore calmly puts her hand inside the basket and wraps her fingers around the snake's head, Caroline takes careful steps back.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry,” the witch says in a softer tone. “No one should ever have to lose a child."

Caroline folds her arms across her chest. "No. No one should."

"You have the talisman?"

"Yeah." She fishes Klaus' necklace from the inside pocket of her jacket and hands it over to Lenore. "What kind of symbol should I be looking for once it's done?"

Lenore grins. "This is so much easier when I'm talking to one of us. You know how it works, you understand what's going to happen."

"Not completely. I never dabbled with sacrificial magic, I have never seen soul branding."

"Next time she jumps into a body, she'll be marked with a distinctive symbol on the back of her hand. Shouldn't be too hard to identify."

Well, she hopes it's more obvious than a birthmark. "We still don't know why Esther is here. Did she give you any ideas of why she's doing all this while she held you captive?"

"Love," Lenore offers simply.

Caroline huffs out a laugh. "How hard did they hit your head?"

"What besides love inspires such pain and cruelty? And Esther... Her love is very,  _ very _ strong. So strong it drives her crazy."

Lenore takes a dagger and drives it through the python's head, pulling it down and ripping the snake open. Caroline makes a disgusted grimace and looks away.  _ This _ is why she's never wanted to touch sacrificial magic.

The witch pulls out the snake's innards and lets its blood drip into an iron bowl. "Now we're ready to begin."

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"I think we're missing someone, aren't we? Where's the lovely Caroline? I thought she'd be joining us for dinner?"

Elijah shoots a sideway look at Niklaus, seeing as a shadow crosses his brother's face, hard blue eyes drilling holes on Finn. Of course he would bring up Caroline. So far, all he's tried to do is get them riled up. It was only a matter of time until he mentioned her.

"I thought it best to spare Caroline the misery of having to sit through our family gathering," Klaus says, anger seething behind his deceptively even tone.

"She lives with the two of you. That's misery enough, the way I see it. It can hardly get any worse than that."

"Oh, sure it can. She could live with you."

Elijah chuckles and the smug smile on Finn's face wavers. He's always been like that, their older brother; loves to poke others, but cannot stand to be poked back. He's playing this game with the wrong person, obviously. Perhaps he's forgotten that Niklaus' tongue is as sharp as his fangs.

"It's unfortunate she's not here. I was looking forward to meeting her. I've heard  _ so much _ ," he continues, deriding. "I have to say, she did not jump to my attention at all on the one time I ever remember being in her presence. I do recall she was your date to mother's ball in Mystic Falls, but... I found her.. Flat. Utterly forgettable."

Klaus' lips curl into a venomous grin. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"I mean, Niklaus has obviously always had a questionable taste in women as far as I can remember, so that wouldn't be entirely surprising, but then I learned she had  _ you _ enraptured as well, Elijah." And there it is... So predictable, his brother... "There has to be  _ something _ about her if she's got the two  _ stars _ of the Mikaelson family wrapped around her little finger. But of course, that's nothing new, is it? You two have the terrible habit of quarreling over the affections of the same woman. Didn't end well for the first one either."

Finn is obviously baiting them, trying to sow discord and get a reaction, pit him against Niklaus. It's the oldest trick on the book, and still... It stings. Elijah manages to keep it off his features entirely, though; Niklaus on the other hand...

" _ Enough _ ." Klaus' voice rings across the room as he slams down his fists hard, the table rattling under the power of his chagrin. "Say another word about Caroline and you will not last long enough to run back and hide beneath our mother's skirt," he hisses at their brother, his tone sharp as a knife.

"Oh... I see I touched a nerve." Finn puts both his hands up in mock surrender. "My apologies. I'm rather enjoying this evening."

"And I'd enjoy you getting to the point," Klaus demands.

"No, I get it. I had 900 years to learn to be patient, you obviously don't know what that is. Although... I'm curious why you kept me daggered in a box for so long."

"You were daggered for being the ever-simpering sycophant. Did mother bring you back from the dead so you could wash her knickers?"

Finn' eyes flash with anger and his laid-back posture completely dissolves, bitterness showing on the drawdown curve of his mouth. Elijah uses his glass to disguise his own amused grin;  _ this _ is why you shouldn't try to beat Niklaus at his own game, unless you have the level-headedness required to keep your cool at his cheap provocations. Finn never could. Apparently 900 years and a brand new body have done nothing to change that.

"She raised me because I was treated unfairly, cheated out of all but the smallest portion of my life," he hisses at Klaus, then shifts on his chair to look at Elijah. "Elijah, I can understand such cruelty coming from him, but I always thought of you as being the compassionate one. What did I do to deserve you turning your back on me? Were you afraid of Niklaus? Are you still? Or perhaps jealousy is why you kept me locked in a box."

_ Oh, Finn... _ There's something so very sad in seeing a grown man this desperate for attention from the siblings he's tried to murder before. His plea, however, quickly turns into an accusation. "You coveted the duties of the eldest brother, in which case you had near a millennium to fix the problems of this family and instead produced nine centuries of failure."

Elijah takes another sip of his wine, considering his brother. He is not entirely wrong; Elijah has failed his family so many times, and his shame is an unrelenting burden he'll carry with him for all eternity. But caretaker to his siblings never been a duty he's coveted. He only had to take it because Finn was so indifferent to his own responsibilities as the eldest. To him, being the oldest son meant he only ever had to impress their parents - mother more so than father. He would tell on them, side against them, rarely ever spent time playing with the younger ones. Elijah remembers so clearly the scornful looks he'd give Klaus after the beatings he got from Mikael, as though he really were deserving of that treatment. In Finn's mind, their parents were unquestionable authorities.

Despite being much closer in age to Finn than he is to Niklaus, Elijah always felt closer - and more protective - of his little brother than of his big one. Even after they turned, when they were half-crazed, clinging to scraps in order to hold themselves together, all Finn could do was talk about how despicable they all were, how they deserved to die and that they should each go their own way and be done with this always and forever silliness. The complete opposite of everything Elijah stood for: while he wanted to take care of his siblings, Finn wanted to never see them again.

So yes, he did take over his place, but only because he refused to do it himself. And whatever familial bond he might've still had for Finn died when he willingly offered himself in sacrifice so their mother could dispose of all her children.

"You might reside - somewhat parasitically, I might add - in another body," Elijah starts. "But let me assure you, in 900 years, your tedious sentiments remain quite the same. You see, Finn, like father, you've always despised our supernatural existence. Father, of course, slaughtered and consumed his own, whereas you... You became pretentious and dull, much like this meal. I will not ask you again - where is our mother?"

"Oh, my darling son." Elijah freezes at the sound of the youthful female voice, so different from his mother's, but carrying a lilt and a poison that sends a shiver up his spine. When the girl finally appears - Cassie - he understands immediately how Niklaus could've been certain that it is was her. The look in her eyes, that arrogant twist of her lips… It sends a powerful chill shooting through him. It's Esther through and through. "I've missed you, too."

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All last shreds of humor Klaus still preserved wither and die on his tongue the moment his mother arrives. He doesn't touch his food, deeply lamenting not having compelled the kitchen staff to sprinkle her dish with poison. He would so delight in seeing her choke in her own venomous swollen tongue. Now, that would liven up his night. As it is, he has no stomach for dinner. All he craves is  _ blood _ . More specifically, the blood pulsing through that little girl's veins.

It's taking a lot of restraint from him not to jump her as she calmly feasts on his food, exchanging affable smiles with both him and Elijah as though this is anything other than a torture session. Elijah keeps turning to him with looks that are silent pleas, begging him to hold back on the murderous intent that must be shining through quite clearly. Caroline hasn't gotten in touch yet, they don't know if the spell has been completed or not. If he kills her now, they lose their leverage.

Oh, but it will be so worth it...

"Why don't you say what you came here to say so this wretched night can end?" he demands moodily.

Esther lets out a long sigh. "It pains me that you and Elijah look at me with such disdain. I wish you would see that my every action has been to protect you."

"You actually believe that, don't you? I knew you were a liar, but now I see you're utterly delusional."

"If you can, forget the hatred that you cling to and remember all the times I've mended and healed you."

Klaus laughs the bitterest of laughs. "Is this some kind of demented joke?"

"Elijah, do you recall the day Niklaus challenged your father to a duel?" Elijah's gaze flickers down to his own untouched dinner, suddenly very interested on his peas, pushing them around on the plate with his fork. "Did I leave your brother to die alone? What did I say, when you came to me and asked me to help him?"

He hesitates for a second. "That you would rather die than watch any of your children suffer."

She fixes him with those unnerving beady eyes, a sparkle of triumph in them, as though that wouldn’t have been merely doing her job as a mother. Klaus bites back on a sneer, tasting something foul in his mouth.

"That's right,” Esther says. “I found you with a sword driven through your shoulder, pinning you to a tree. Did I not tend to your wounds?"

He recalls the day she's referring to, clearly. There were many times when he thought his father would kill him, but he'd never been more certain than on that day. Mikael took the necklace his mother had given him when he was just a child, said he'd always be just a scared little boy, hiding behind his mother's protection. Klaus became so consumed with rage he challenged him to a duel. It was madness, and Mikael laughed at him, but accepted the challenge. He never wasted an opportunity to unleash violence upon Klaus.

But on that day, it was different. His rage was so great he became feral, hitting Mikael with blow after blow after blow, so unrelenting and strong his father didn't even have the chance to fight back. He saw the fear on that man's eyes, how terrified he was that he'd be bested by his own child, the one he'd loathed so much. All Klaus wanted was his necklace, and when Mikael fell to the ground, he took it back, put it around his neck. That's when Mikael struck him. Klaus attempted to defend himself, but that animalistic drive that had possessed him before seemed to have bled out of him. Mikael pierced his shoulder with his sword and left him in the middle of the woods to bleed and die in a most agonizing manner.

That bloody necklace... If not for it, he could've finished Mikael. Could've walked out of that duel as the winner, forever basking in his humiliation. He'd never dare to challenge Klaus again. Hell, he might've even killed himself in shame. Life could've been so different...

The necklace... Klaus' eyes narrow at his mother as he thinks of that talisman. When she gave it to him, she told him to never take it off, wear it all times, and he never dared to disobey her. She said he was special, and he'd felt so loved. It was his most treasured belonging. He wouldn't even take it off when he bathed in the river. But when Mikael took it from him... He was transformed. Energized. Filled with an inhuman kind of focus and impetus. Almost like... A werewolf.

Klaus stares at his mother as confusion gathers inside of him, before it finally dissipates and he is left with nothing but a harsh, cold truth. White, hot anger reignites in its wake, blood boiling in his veins.

"The necklace... It wasn't a spell to protect me. You told me I should always wear it... And it made me  _ weak _ ," he spits out, words coated in spite and disbelief.

The necklace... It had always been the necklace his own mother gave to him.

Esther tenses visibly, perhaps seeing the fury raging behind his eyes. "I sought to protect you from yourself. If you would've killed your father in that duel, or anyone else over the course of your life, you would've activated your curse."

Klaus slams both of his hands down on the table, pointing a menacing finger at her. Esther recoils, sinking into her chair. "You  _ ruined _ me! Left me to suffer at the hands of a father who valued only strength!"

"I kept you from becoming a beast for as long as I possibly could."

"You lied to me to hide your own transgressions because of your own fear!" He pushes back from the table with a violent jerk, his voice escalating to a roar. "My whole life, I sought the approval I was denied by the man I thought was my father. You turned me into the weakling he hated!  _ Look at me _ !" he snarls when she puts her head down, forcing her to face him - face her own creation, the beast eaten away by resentment and hatred she so despises now. "You rant and you rage about the monster I've become, but you, mother -  _ you _ are the author of everything I am!"

Esther's face crumples as though she's about to burst into tears or feel sick, all color draining from her face. Suddenly, her eyes roll back into her head and she passes out. Elijah catches her just before her head falls into her plate. "She's gone," he says.

Elijah immediately tries to launch at Finn, but their brother flicks his wrist and sends him flying across the table. Klaus grunts in anger as he attacks next, ready to remove Finn's head right there and then, but he blows at his hand and then rubs the tips of his fingers together, and Klaus is overcome by a pain in his skull as though his brain is about to burst. It sends him writhing to the ground.

When it finally dwindles and he's able to push himself up, Finn is gone. But the Harvest girl has been left behind.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Lenore has been chanting non-stop for ages now. Caroline realizes this is a complicated enchantment and, as a former witch herself, she really doesn't want to criticize another witch's work, but it's taking  _ too long _ . Not knowing what's going on at the compound just makes her all the more anxious.

Just as she's about to send Klaus a text, the chanting stops. Lenore leans forward, her head down as though she's been stricken by a wave of dizziness. She looks awfully ashen, her hands clearly shaking where she's gripping the sides of the bowl in front of her.

"Are you ok?" Caroline asks, taking a tentative step forward. Stubborn woman... Should've just drank a sip of Caroline's blood. She’s putting too much energy into the spell when she barely had any to spare.

Lenore inhaled deeply before she lifts her head. Her eyes look slightly glazed over for a moment. She blinks a couple of times, finally focusing on Caroline. "Yes," she says, out of breath.

"Are you sure? You don't look so fine."

"I'm just... Getting my bearing." She straightens her posture, lifting her hands to her forehead. The moment she does, Caroline spots it - a strange mark on the back of her right hand. Distinctive and impossible to miss, like a huge scar that didn’t heal well, just like Lenore herself said.

Caroline gasps, stumbling backwards. Lenore blinks at her, noticing her eyes on her hand. "Oh..." she says without heat. "Clever."

Caroline's entire body goes tense, her jaw clenching and knuckles blanching as she balls her hands into tight fists. All the heat in her seems to freeze into ice as something akin to panic rekindles in her stomach. "It's you, isn't it?"

Just then, her phone starts ringing. Caroline touches the pocket of her jacket, wondering if she's fast enough to whoosh out of this place before Lenore -  _ Esther _ , it's Esther Mikaelson who's there - can stop her.

"Go ahead," she says, very calm as she cleans her bloody hands on a cloth. "You can answer it."

Caroline swallows, but takes the call. "Klaus, I'm at Lenore's shop -" She flings a hand out and the line gets disconnected.

"That would be enough."

"They will come for me."

Esther smiles affably. "My darling... It's been the idea all along."

Fear pools at the bottom of Caroline's spine. They've walked right into her trap, and if she wants Klaus and Elijah here, it can't be a good thing. Caroline doesn't know if she's more afraid for herself or for them.

"It's lovely to finally meet you," Esther starts again conversationally. "Tell me, do my sons ever acknowledge the good you bring into their lives? They tend to be too consumed by their own self-importance, especially Niklaus. I'd hate to think he doesn't value you enough. After all, it was you who gave them hope. The promise of a child shows us all the possibilities of a future that could be. Children are meant to save us from the worst parts of who we are. A truth that makes my own circumstances all the more tragic, wouldn't you say?"

Caroline gives her a look as though she's completely crazy, which, in all truth, she is. She has to be. A dangerous, maniac, insane woman, made worse by the millenium she's had to stew in nothing but her own guilt. "If you're looking for pity, you can look somewhere else. You'll find none here."

She hums pensively. "It’s not pity I look for. I merely thought you, of all people, would understand my plight. It's a terrible thing for a mother to fail her child, as you well know."

Caroline squints at her, indignation exploding at the sheer audacity of that woman to accuse her of being a bad mother - or worse, to be  _ just like her _ . "You've got some nerve telling me that I  _ failed _ my child," she bites out, heat wrestling her sense of self-preservation into the ground as the waspish retort leap off her mouth. "I was kidnapped, bound and tortured by  _ your _ acolytes, who took my baby from my arms and slit my throat so I wouldn't have the chance to save her. On  _ your orders _ .”

Esther sighs, an apologetic expression on her face that makes Caroline want to rip it off of her with her teeth. "I make no excuses for what happened, Caroline. It was truly horrible. Things were never meant to go that way. Genevieve... Let's just say her heart was in the wrong place. She let certain feelings cloud her judgement, and that led to terrible consequences."

"Of course. Blame the deranged,  _ dead _ messenger who's not here to defend herself for carrying out your dirty job."

Esther puts her palms together in a plea sign. "I'm trying to make it up for that. I have a gift for your, Caroline. And for my children. I offer you the gift of a new body, freedom from being a vampire. You see, I have the ability to return to you all that you have lost, to make it so you can have a family of your own, more children of your own. You could start over as a witch again, and if my sons agree to do the same... Who knows? You could even have another child with Niklaus. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Caroline's head spins. Did she understand this correctly? What Esther wants is not to kill all of them, finish what her followers failed to do last spring, but to put them all into mortal bodies and give them new lives. She feels a bit of a pang somewhere, her traitorous heart giving a violent lurch as she considers the other woman's words.

"You know what I'm offering is a good thing," Esther continues, sensing the hesitation in her. "You know you would all be much happier this way."

Before Caroline has a chance to shake the doubts away and offer a cohesive responde, Klaus and Elijah burst into the store - Klaus from the front door behind her, Elijah from the back door closer to where Esther is.

"I assume I have the misfortune of speaking to my mother," Klaus says, stepping in front of Caroline like a shield. Esther blows some kind of powder towards him, creating a barrier so he can't get any closer. Klaus' lips twist with disdain. "You hide behind your spells like a coward."

"I did not come here to wage war," she says, and then blows her powder towards Elijah when she senses he's about to launch at her.

"Everything you do is an act of war," Elijah retorts.

"I'll advise you to keep your dirty paws away from Caroline," Klaus grits out. "If you touch her, so help me -"

"Caroline is free to go," Esther cuts him off, smiling when her eyes meet Caroline's as though the two of them are friendly. It makes her stomach rake with nausea. "I've spoken my piece, she knows why I'm here. I came to heal our family, Niklaus."

"Well, that's a grim sentiment coming from you."

"Caroline, go," Elijah tells her, urgently.

"Now," Klaus adds, nodding his head towards the door. She doesn't need to be told a second time, suddenly desperate to get away from that place, from that terrible woman and her terrible temptations.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus doesn't even know what kind of atrocity is coming out of his mouth anymore. He's been spitting slings and arrows for the past ten minutes with such ardor his voice has stopped making sense to his own ears, his lips moving of their own accord.

He's in such a state of blazing anger he can't  _ stop _ \- talking, gesticulating, pacing. He's pretty certain he'll combust if he does.

His expectations for tonight were tragically low to begin with, but things have somehow managed to be even worse. Finn. The truth about his necklace. His mother making a swift escape only to jump into the witch they'd enlisted to perform the branding spell for them, who was with  _ Caroline _ .

Klaus was beside himself with rage. He and Elijah questioned the girl, Cassie, but she was useless, confused and ill after just waking up from a deep and long slumber to an inquisition court. He would've disposed of her once and for all, but Elijah stopped him. "She doesn't know anything, Niklaus. She was possessed." Whatever. Who cares? This town is crawling with witches, the less, the better. But there was no time.  _ Because their mother had Caroline. _ How is it possible that they plot and plan and prepare and still Esther gets ahead of them on the one thing they so desperately tried to avoid?

And then, just as he and Elijah finally had her cornered, she disappeared in a cloud of starlings without answering any of their questions. Literally spoke her mind and was gone, the coward hag.

"Ask Caroline to share with you my loving proposition," she uttered ominously, right before the windows of that filthy convenience store exploded with hundreds of birds flying in like missiles.

_ Ask Caroline _ . That despicable, heinous woman would dare to try and employ  _ Caroline _ to do her bidding. She is out of her mind if she thinks she'll ever find support for any of her repulsive propositions in their house.

"She wants to find new bodies for all of us, heal us from vampirism. She offered to make me a witch again," Caroline explained when he and Elijah returned to the compound. She was waiting for them at the courtyard with an empty blood bag in her hands. "She also said she's already healed her other sons, so I'm guessing that means Finn and Kol are back, too?"

That was about the point where Klaus's anger came spilling out in the form of snarls and curses.

"That filthy crone. Of course she would use those damned bird to make her escape! Twice tonight she escaped from facing us,  _ twice _ . Coward!"

"Caroline," Elijah speaks around an exhale, interrupting his rant. "Besides mother's offer of rebirth, what else did she say?"

"She rambled a lot," Caroline speaks dispassionately. Klaus stops pacing, realizing, for the first time, that she's been awfully quiet and not taken with fury as he would expect of her after coming face to face with his mother. "She blamed the two of you for what happened to Eve, to me."

Klaus walks up to where she's sitting, pinning her under a harsh stare. "Well, I trust you're not thinking about taking her offer." She remains quiet, head dipped low. " _ Caroline! _ I'm talking to you!"

With one fluid movement, she stands up, leveling him with a gaze as hard as a rock. "What do you want me to say? I lost my daughter, so yes, when your mother offers to wipe the slate clean, excuse me if I'm tempted."

Klaus' nostrils flare. "My mother is  _ why _ we lost our daughter. Have you forgotten that?"

"No, I haven't. That's all I ever think about, every second of every day. I'm sorry if I just  _ wondered _ , for a tiny fraction of a second, what it would be like if I hadn't turned into -"

"A monster?" he cuts her off sourly, a biting challenge in his eyes. "Is that what you were going to say? A monster, like me? Do you know who else thinks that?  _ My mother _ ."

The steel in Caroline's eyes flash, but Klaus thinks he sees a flicker of hurt before she says, "I don't expect you to understand."

She turns away from him, but just before she stalks off, she stops next to Elijah. "By the way, thank you  _ so _ much for the help tonight, Elijah. I'm sorry it took me being in danger for you to speak to me again."

Klaus makes to follow her up the stairs, not yet done with this argument, but his brother stops him.

"Niklaus," Elijah drawls as a warning. "Let her go. Don't pick a fight. Not now."

He grunts, blowing out a heavy gust of air, distraught with all the indignation thrumming in his veins like poison. "Our mother, Elijah. The woman brought us into the world, made us what we are and the whole time she lied to me. She made me weak  _ on purpose _ . She is the very  _ reason _ Mikael always treated me the way he did, even before he knew the truth. She’s taken everything from me and now she aims to poison Caroline against me! Against  _ us _ !"

"You were never weak, Niklaus. You are and have always been the fiercest of us all. Mikael knew that even then. In a thousand years, I've never seen anyone successfully stand against you, not even our wicked father. Not one of the countless devoted to your destruction."

"That's not true, though, is it?" Klaus' shoulders sag as some of that fight drains out of him, painful memories springing vividly and unbidden in his mind. "I was bested not six months ago. By  _ her _ . She was the mastermind behind all of that. My daughter's sacrifice. Caroline's death."

"Listen to me, brother." Elijah steps up to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and searching his eyes. "You will protect our home, even in the face of an adversary such as our mother, because that, Niklaus... That is what you do. She won't best you again."

Klaus wants nothing more than to believe his brother, to have that same kind of unburdened certainty, that faith. Right now, however... All he has is a bitter sense of guilt.

"You remain ever the wise counsel, brother," he says. "The rest of our family could learn from you."

Klaus moves away from his brother's grip, off to find something with which to drown out his sorrows. It’s hard to tell what he's in more desperate need for, alcohol or warm blood.

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The bar is far from impressive - starting with its unimaginative name,  _ Old Point _ . The kind of place that reeks of stale alcohol and broken dreams. The people inside look forlorn and depressed, locked in deep conversations with their glasses, trying to understand where it all went wrong.

But the music is quite good, which, he guesses, shouldn't come as a surprise, considering what - or  _ who _ \- brought him here.

Gia sits by the counter, a forgotten glass near her fingers as they tap lightly to the rhythm of the jazzy, soulful tune of the musician on the stage, her dark eyes lost in thought. It doesn't go unnoticed how much more relaxed she looks there, serene almost, those severe lines smoothed out to reveal a beautiful young woman. It's amazing he hadn't realized how pretty she is before as it jumps to the eye now, so obvious even in the low light. It probably had much more to do with his own foul mood than with her.

"Bourbon. Neat," he tells the barman as he appears beside her, almost regretting it when he sees her tensing up. Her mouth curves downwards as she puffs out in frustration. Elijah flinches inwardly for upsetting her in a moment of such peaceful distraction; he wanted to borrow from her, maybe bask in the same source of relaxation, not make her feel like him, stressed out and bitter, again.

"What?" she bites out. "You need another python?"

Elijah grins softly. "Oh, one could never have too many." He sips from his drink, sparing a glance at the musician once more. The man is quite talented, but, from what he's seen, Gia is even better. "You playing tonight?"

"I don't think so."

"That's a shame. You're rather good."

Gia's eyes flicker away from him, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat. "Ever since I turned, I... Haven't been able to play," she speaks, her voice pitched low as though she's making a confession, admitting to something that fills her with shame. "I don't know why."

Elijah puts down his glass, shifting so he can look her straight in the eye. Marcel is rather accomplished on the piano himself, or at least he used to be. Elijah’s surprised he hasn’t had this conversation with Gia. It seems as though they haven’t talked about much at all. He wasn’t joking when he said he wanted Elijah to coach her, even if his reasons are still a mystery.

"It's different for us,” he offers. “Cadence, rhythm... Harmony. Our experience of the senses is altered. We move faster. We hear things with greater acuity. Silences are at once longer and more profound. Sounds are simply different to our ears, and then there is the emotion. For a vampire, it's extremely heightened... Sometimes difficult to express."

Gia's lips part as her eyes sparkle with wonder, with comprehension. And then, after a moment, she catches herself, sense preservation sliding into place once more as she clears her throat, gazing away. "Yeah, that's, uh... That sounds about right. You... Expressed it very well." She knocks back the rest of her drink.

"Your music, the joy you felt when playing, you can learn again. I can help you."

"Why?" she asks, scoffing, likely thinking he's toying with her. He can't blame her for it; he did leave a bad impression.

"Because you're a great musician and I'd hate to see your talent go to waste," he says, and then, after a beat. "And because if someone had done the same thing for myself and my siblings, I'm quite certain history would have unfolded differently. Not just for us, but for everyone. Including, maybe, even you."

Her lips curl into a tiny little smile, an honest one. "So now you're interested in coaching? Don't you have a newbie of your own to help?"

He puts down his empty glass and signals for the bartender to bring him another one. "The kind of help she needs... Is not one I can provide," he explains simply, words tasting ashen in his mouth. Still, he grins back Gia, surprising himself in realizing that he means it. "You, I can."

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Klaus walks like he's trying to crush a bug under his shoes. Like he's commanding the whole world to move out of his way. Heavy, angry steps, even when he's not in a mood. It's just how he moves. How he holds himself. Even his footsteps sound cocky.

Caroline had never really paid attention to this before she became a vampire, never realized that there was so much she could tell about someone just by the way they walk. For instance, it makes sense that Elijah would move like a cat, even to her new and improved hearing. He's sure-footed and treads so lightly, so softly, you can only tell he's approaching when he wants you to. It's kind of annoying, really; even the way he walks is elegant and perfectly balanced.

Her walk, she imagines, must sound totally staggering and unsure, like she’s either drunk or doesn’t know where she’s going. It’s what she feels like most of the time now, anyway.

Klaus' angry footsteps distract her from her thoughts, and she knows he's coming to see her even before she feels his presence right behind her, on the balcony. She's been out here, staring into nothing, considering Esther's words.

" _ You could start over as a witch again. _ "

It took her right back to the whole cure debacle from a few years ago, those who would take the cure vs those who wouldn't. Caroline couldn't even fathom the thought of becoming a vampire back then, thought  _ for sure _ she would want to take the cure if she were one. And isn't that exactly what Esther is offering now? A cure?

Klaus comes to stand beside her, a glass of bourbon on each of his hands. He offers her one, and Caroline narrows her eyes at him before snatching it away.

"Is this your idea of an apology?" she asks, bringing the glass up to her lips.

"I'm not apologizing. I'm merely offering peace." She snorts flippantly, shaking her head. "Did you mean what you said?" Klaus asks after a beat.

"What part?"

"All of it. That you think we're monsters. That you'd take my mother's offer. That you want to start over, clean slates and whatnot." Caroline turns her face to him, noticing the subtle thread of uncertainty laced in his voice, the way he's very deliberately keeping his eyes focused ahead.

"Yes," she says. Klaus' lips twitch, eyes darkening as he lowers them to his drink. Caroline sighs, facing away from him. "And no. I'd never take anything Esther has to offer. Even if it was the best possible proposition in the history of ever... It's still Esther. I'd never trust her. But I still have bad days. Days when I do feel like a monster. When I kill and feed and feel no remorse. Even if they're bad guys, even if they'd have me dead if they could... I used to think I was better than that. An eye for an eye and we have anarchy." There's a pause, and Caroline takes a draught off her glass again, letting the burn wash down the lump that has formed in her throat. "But I don't want a different life. I want my life to be different. And there's no magic out there that can give me that."

"So you wouldn't take the opportunity to leave here and start over somewhere else? As a mortal again, away from all the Mikaelson drama, to start a family?"

Caroline lifts her gaze to meet his once more, hearing the quiet plea woven in his words. She shakes her head softly. "No. I already have a family. Even if they like to piss me off on occasion."

Klaus' lips curl up into a relieved little smile, a dimple cutting into one of his cheeks, and Caroline can't help but smile back. He takes a tentative step closer, slowly raising his hand as though asking for permission to touch, giving her time to move away if she wants to. When she doesn't, he cups her face, his fingertips tingling against her cheek.

Caroline’s teeth grazes his lips when he kisses her, and Klaus' eyes become alight with a different kind of emotion, want burning in the dark blue of his irises. He dives in for another kiss, hungrier, needier, hands sliding down to her neck and then back, digging into her hair. Klaus removes the glass from her hand and haphazardly puts it aside, grabbing her thighs and hauling her up, both his hands settling on the curve of her ass. Caroline chuckles into the kiss, wrapping her legs around him as he carries her back into her room. Desire kicks in inside of her with a punch as she loses herself in the smell and the taste of him, in how much she loves this - how much she loves  _ him _ .

She'd never want to take someone else's body, even with all the down sides of this one. The hunger, the mood swings, not being able to have more kids... She can handle it. She's already getting better at it, feeling more and more comfortable, learning how to navigate all these heightened everything's she's inherited from her daughter's tribrid blood.

She still misses her magic, of course, it was a huge part of her, but there are more important things. Things that mean more than any magic or any power ever could. Like her baby girl, who's alive and  _ safe _ , even if she's far away. And the ridiculously pretty man in her arms, with the annoying dimples that always break through her defenses and the stormy eyes that sparkle with wonder and desire whenever he looks at her.

No, she doesn't want another life. She's got everything she needs to be happy already.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! :)


	4. S02E04 Live and Let Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a bridge chapter, which, luckily, won't make much of a difference, since the next one has also been posted already. In any case, just thought you should know.

* * *

_Smile, the worst is yet to come_   
_We'll be lucky if we ever see the sun_   
_Got nowhere to go, we could be here for a while_   
_But the future is forgiven, so smile_

* * *

_"_ _Brother! Niklaus!_ "

Caroline turns away from the conversation with one of the werewolves to see Elijah blasting into the compound like the place is on fire.

She barely runs into him these days, like the two of them don't even live under the same roof anymore. Apparently he's now friends with Marcel and the two of them have started a little vampires club over in Algiers, which is where he's been spending most of his time. Or that's what Klaus has told her, anyway. Elijah doesn't tell her anything, anymore. Avoids her like the plague, doesn't look her in the eye even when he's talking to her - although _talk_ is a bit of a loose description to those brief, clipped and monosilabic interactions they have every once in a full moon.

At first Caroline was really upset, ridden with guilt, trying to understand what she'd done that had offended Elijah so deeply. She wanted to corner him and apologize and tell him she'd send the Crescents back to the Bayou if it was such an imposition. The compound was his home, after all, the last thing she wanted was for him to feel uncomfortable. But that was before. Now, she's just plain annoyed. He's been treating her like crap, and werewolves or not, Caroline really doesn't think she deserves this. Instead of just telling her what the hell is bothering him so much so they can work it out like the two reasonable adults that they are, he's resorted to being a dick.

Well, screw him.

Caroline never thought there would come a day she would genuinely say she'd get fed up with Elijah, but here they are. Stranger things have happened in New Orleans.

If she's also a little hurt that he never invited her to his vampire club, can anyone really blame her? She's a vampire, too, and a rookie one, which is apparently their targeted audience, but that's something else that seems to have escaped his mind. She gets squared into the hybrid category, even though she's definitely not one. All Elijah's exclusion does is make her feel even more dislocated. She's not a vampire because she has the werewolf juju, but she's not a werewolf, and not a hybrid either, and she's definitely not a witch. So what the hell is she?

Right now, she's pissed off.

"Jesus, Elijah. Do you think you can be any louder?" she says as she walks up to meet him. "You do realize literally everyone here has supernatural hearing, right?"

He seems to bite back on a response. "Where is my brother?"

"Hmm... Let me check his schedule - wait. No. Not his secretary."

Elijah takes a sharp intake of air. "Caroline, this city is under siege by an army of beasts following my deranged mother's every command. Considering it's your friends who just declared war on my kind, perhaps now is not the best time for your particular brand of... sass."

She narrows her eyes at him, indignation flaring up inside. "My _friends_ declaring war on your _kind_?"

"Yes. A little squad of werewolves raided Marcel's home across the river and basically told them all to scatter, or they'd be dead by the end of the day. One vampire got bitten."

 _Well, fuck_. They must've gotten word of what Marcel is doing and decided to put an end to it before he gets himself an army. Like they don't have enough problems as it is... Now the wolves are going to attack vampires all the way across the river. Esther is just looking for an excuse to slaughter every last vampire in New Orleans.

Still, the fact Elijah would call those werewolves answering to his mother _her friends_ , as though she is on their side, makes her skin crawl.

"Klaus left a while ago, I don't know where he went. If only there was a magical device that you could use to call him... I don't know, I'm out of ideas. Good luck to you." With a shrug of her shoulder she turns her back on him, but then stops, whirls around. "By the way. It's not _your_ kind. It's my kind, too. In case you've forgotten, I still burn under the sun. But I guess you don't care what happens to me anymore."

Caroline turns away, but she can swear she sees a flicker of hurt on his face before she does.

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How long does it take for a human woman to use the bathroom?

Klaus is past the line of impatience, veering dangerously into irritation. He's been waiting in the car for - he checks the time on the dashboard - bloody _forty minutes_. How much water can a person as diminute as Camille have in her body?

And to think he'd thought today would turn out to be his lucky day...

Serves him right, though. This is what he gets for trying to do the _right_ thing, instead of simply doing things his way. He blames Caroline for these sudden bouts of insane decency that seem to grab a hold of him like a disease from time to time. If he'd just followed his guts, he would've probably arrived at his destination already. Instead, he's outside this appalling roadside bar waiting for Camille, who asked him to stop so she could use the loo _forty bloody minutes ago_.

He doesn't want to be indelicate with a lady's necessities, but this is too much.

Klaus had been tailing his therapist around the French Quarter while she apparently ran some errands, waiting for the appropriate time to approach her to inquire - with a certain measure of urgency - on Davina Claire's whereabouts. Ever since Mikael's appearance at Rousseau's, the girl had been missing and no one had any idea where she'd scurried away to. Not even Marcel or her good friend Joshu, but Klaus remembered she'd become quite close to Camille. It occurred to him that, while she'd stayed away from the friends who were more likely to leak sensitive information to him, she might've kept in touch with the one Klaus hadn't seen in months and who nurtured just the right amount of resentment towards him.

He expected Camille to be annoyed (she was), to remind him that he'd refused to see him the last time she'd been at the compound (he had) and be entirely hostile about sharing anything regarding Davina (also true), but Klaus was ready to negotiate. Instead, however, his disposition was rewarded with something much better. Davina called, apparently after Camille left several messages on her phone, and from their brief interaction, Klaus managed to get everything he needed. The sound of cicadas, terns and the real giveaway: church bells.

Davina's family owns a little cabin in Terrebonne Parish. It’s been abandoned for years, which is why he hadn't immediately gone there. But a glimpse at a map would show it is just a mile away from the loveliest little chapel.

_Perfect._

What Klaus should've done there was turn around, get his car and drive all the way to Terrebonne Parish on his own. Instead, he decided to invite Camille to join him so she might reason with Davina. The girl would obviously never listen to anything he had to say, clearly hell bent on having him and his entire family sent straight to hell. Who then better to conduct peace talks than a person with a degree in psychology and a terrible penchant for meddling in other people's businesses?

He did it out of the kindness of his heart, trying to offer Davina a chance to rethink her position and give him back the stake and his father so he could finish him off. Klaus would be happy, the world would be rid of Mikael once and for all and Davina would get to keep her sodden little life. Everybody wins. Or that's how it was supposed to go, anyway.

Forty minutes after Camille excused herself, his mood has considerably soured. So maybe he won't be feeling all that merciful anymore by the time he finally gets to Terrebonne. Not a very smart move for someone who wanted to save a friend, he’ll say.

Deciding he's had enough of delays - honestly, who does this girl think she is, making _Klaus Mikaelson_ wait around for her? - he jumps out of his car and storms into the bar. It's as pitiful on the inside as the exterior façade suggests. Why would anyone want to spend more than five minutes at a place like this is just beyond him.

It's still early, so there aren't that many people around. Klaus scans the area for a familiar mop of blonde hair and finds it in a corner booth. Except... It's not the blonde head he was expecting.

When she sees him, Caroline smiles and waves her fingers, like she's been expecting him. Recovering fast from the shock, Klaus grinds his teeth and strides across the bar.

“Hey,” she says affably. “You took your time. Thought you were never coming in.”

"Where's Camille?" he demands.

Caroline arches her eyebrows. "Oh? You mean the person you blackmailed into going on a roadtrip to possibly witness the murder of a teenage girl? That Camille?" She casually sips from her drink. "Probably almost back to the French Quarter by now, I guess. I gave her my car keys."

Klaus blows out an angry gust of air. "What are you doing here, Caroline?"

"I got a distress signal. When you sneak out without telling me where you're going, that's red flag number one. When _Cami_ calls me to say you were stalking her through the Quarter, listening to private conversations, that’s flag number two. When you _kidnap_ her - that's about ten other red flags all at once."

Klaus scoffs, lips twisting with derision. "Camille thinks too highly of herself if she thinks I would kidnap her. I merely offered her a courtesy, which she clearly did not show enough appreciation for.” 

“A courtesy?”

“Yes, the chance to save her friend - which, in hindsight, was terribly unwise of me. She could've just said no and ran along with her day, done us both a favor."

"So her options were tag along with you or Davina dies? That's neat, Klaus."

"Must I remind you that girl is not only in charge of my father, whom she has apparently resurrected all on her own, but also of the white oak stake that can kill me? Do you not understand the urgency of this endeavor?"

"Oh, I do. I really do. Which is why..." Caroline pushes a glass towards the empty spot across from her on the table. "We need to talk."

Klaus peers at her unimpressed. "Is this your plan? Ply me with alcohol and then prattle on until I'm convinced to leave Davina and Mikael alone to plot my death?"

"No," she drawls. "I just want to hear what your plan is. I mean, I assume you have one."

"Storm, take down and murder, of course," he says simply. "Can't get more straightforward than that." Klaus slides into the empty seat, knocking back the drink all at once. He makes a grimace as it washes down his throat like bleach, looking with disgust at the glass before setting it down on the table with a thud. It's scotch of the worst quality, which goes well with the general atmosphere of the bar.

Caroline takes a breath, propping her elbows on the table as she leans forward, staring at him with sharp eyes. "First of all, you're not killing that girl."

"Why would I want to kill her? It's not like she has revived my worst nightmare and intends to unleash him upon me," he sneers. "Caroline, that girl wants me dead."

“Potentially problematic, I know."

"Oh, for goodness’ sake. I'd expect that kind of psychoanalysis nonsense from Camille, not from you. You should know better."

"I do know better," she says defensively. "But Davina is just a kid, Klaus. And one who's got a lot of anger in her. She's been betrayed, abandoned, threatened and nearly murdered by every single person she knows. I doubt she even understands exactly what she did, what Mikael is. You're not killing her, end of story. Now, Mikael -"

"Oh?" he smiles grimly. "Now you'll tell me to look for forgiveness in my cold, cold heart and offer him a second chance as well?"

Caroline makes an unamused expression. "No. But if he has the white oak stake, don't you think you should have a better plan than storm, take down and murder?"

Klaus smirks, patting his jacket for the little surprise he brought along with him. Caroline frowns, and he fishes Papa Tunde's blade out. "I've taken precautions."

"Oh, great. It's Papa Tunde's mystical blade of ludicrous torment again. _Yay_ ," she speaks with no heat, emptying her glass and shaking her head like she disapproves of his plan.

"This takes him down, I retrieve the stake, drive it into his heart and voilà. It's all done."

“Doesn't that sound a little too easy for you?"

"I've killed him once, with his very own stake - incidentally, while you and your friends plotted _with him_ to have _me_ murdered."

Caroline makes a grunting sound at the back of her throat, throwing her head back. "Won’t you ever get over that? Let's open old wounds from the past, why don't we? Just so you know, _I_ was never a part of that plot, I thought that was my homecoming _freaking_ dance - which _you_ hijacked, by the way, so thanks for that. I didn't even stay the whole night to see what happened because I got knocked out and dragged home so I wouldn't be there when your hybrids fulfilled your pre-order of killing everyone in case things went south for you, _starting with me_. Wanna talk about that, too?"

"This is ridiculous!" he grits out as he slams his hands down on the table and stands to his feet, his temper irrevocably ruined.

Caroline skids her chair back and stands up as well. "What's ridiculous is that you would go on a suicide mission after your father and tell no one about it!" she barks out angrily. "Was Cami your way of having someone to bring back the news in case you ended up dead?"

"The only thing that I want is to kill Mikael, and I've already wasted enough time. If you'd rather sit here and dole out nonsense, then by all means. Have a nice day."

Before Caroline even has a chance to offer what he is certain would be an incensed protest, Klaus flashes out of there and back to his car. If there's one thing he _didn't_ want is for Caroline to have another unfortunate run-in with Mikael. She beat him the first time, but she's no longer a witch - quite the opposite. She's exactly what his father feeds on.

The further away Caroline stays from his family, the better.

Camille will be hearing from him later - provided he is the one left standing by the end of the day, that is.

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They have no idea when the werewolves will be returning, and there's very little they can do in less than a day in terms of training a band of misfit vampires to successfully stand against powered-up wolves, but Marcel is hand-tied. He can either obey and leave New Orleans, or he can stay and fight and see what'll be left of his so called _army_ by the end of the day.

With Elijah here, they have a better chance. But if they aim to form a resistance, they'll need to do better than one Original, one senior vampire and a bunch of untrained, unrefined baby ones.

Much to his chagrin, Elijah has rolled up his sleeves and gone to work - literally. Marcel has taken the rest of the group outside for a fighting 101 class while he's stayed indoors to conduct a private class with Gia. She's the one who's shown most promise out of the group. Not entirely without qualities, but terribly green.

At the very least, this is good exercise and a way to purge the frustrated energy he's been bottling up inside for weeks into something productive. Or it would be, if she actually demanded any effort from him.

This is like trying to fight a child.

Gia launches forward, hands fisted, ready to connect with his jaw, but her movements are unimaginative and easily telegraphed. Elijah holds her wrists and puts her arm down.

"As a devout feminist, I refuse to say you hit like a girl," he says, not at all impressed. She pulls away from him with a grunt. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

She pulls the hair from her face. "Tell me again why I don't get to be outside with everybody else, you know... With the nice, non-Original teacher."

"You're my responsibility."

She scoffs. "Says the feminist."

Elijah's lips curl into a grin. "Fighting is rhythm. There is a music, there is a meter, there is a pattern. You may not understand much of punching and dodging, but you understand music, so let the rhythm beat with you. Again."

Gia comes at him with all her might, and she's quite clever with the way she tries to surprise him - the biggest problem here might be that Elijah is simply too good for her. In her defense, he's too good for virtually everyone. Still, he needs to make her better. All her attempts are easily blocked.

"And then, once you've established your cadence..." He pushes her off and she swiftly swirls around with a fluid movement, small as she is, avoiding the worst of his strength and dodging his arms as he reaches for her. He smiles when he finds himself genuinely surprised by her finally making contact, both her hands hitting his chest as she slams him fiercely against a wall.

"You change the key," she completes, breathlessly, her lips drawing into a proud smile.

"Very nice," he croaks, holding her in place and staring her dead in the eye. "Now... The head or the heart? None of this means anything if you cannot make the kill." The smile drops out of her face and Gia takes her hands off him, tries to step away, but Elijah keeps her palms pressed firmly against his chest.

"What if I can't?" she asks in a small voice.

"You will, to survive. Now... The head or the heart?"

Gia falters, taking in an unsteady breath and looking at him as though asking for permission. Elijah nods, and then she drives her hand into his chest. He grinds his teeth against the pain, grunting when her fingers wrap around his heart. He concentrates on her, on the look in her overbright eyes, equal parts amazed and terrified, feeling a beating heart in her hands for the first time.

He feels something close to arousal springing inside of him, a flutter of excitement like he hasn't had in a while even as a wave of dizziness rattles his thoughts. This is a terribly intimate moment - he's making himself vulnerable to another person, allowing her to reach the most fragile part of him. The part he wishes he could carry on without. And she seems to understand that, what this moment really is about. There's a strange sort of connection there, as his heart races faster still against the cage of her delicate fingers.

He moans in pain, in anticipation, half hoping that she will pull it out, put an end to his torment for a few hours. Perhaps that's exactly the kind of thrill he's after here, why he wanted to teach her, and only her. Gia looks like someone who can reap a heart, and his could really do with some regrowing. It's been beating for all the wrong reasons for little over a year now.

"What the hell?!"

Gia flinches when someone walks in, their moment broken as she lets go of him and moves away, his heart still intact, if slightly unsettled. Elijah slides down on the wall, catching his breath and mashing his eyes shut against the throbbing ache in his chest, the wound burning as his body heals itself. The stab of disappointment is inevitable.

"That's him," Gia says, her temper flaring up. "That's the guy who brought the wolves here to kill us!"

Elijah turns to see Oliver with another man, a dark haired one he remembers seeing around the Crescents' camp but to whom he hadn't had the displeasure of being introduced. He straightens up and squares his shoulder, a steely mask of determination sliding into place as he advances towards the two of them.

"Woah!" Oliver says, putting his hands up in surrender. "We're not here to fight, man. Just hear us out."

He regards the two of them for a moment. "Speak. I suggest you be succinct. I’m busy."

The two werewolves exchange a look, and Oliver nods to the other man, who takes a timid step forward. "Please," he says, gazing from Elijah to Gia and back, a subdued air about him. Not at all something Elijah expected to see on a man who had, just hours before, assaulted the place. "I need your help."

Elijah considers them for a moment, curiosity piquing despite his reluctant disposition to offer the two gentlemen a share of his time.

"Gia," he says, handing her a towel so she can wipe his blood off her hands. "Go get Marcel." As she turns and leaves, no questions asked, Elijah turns back to the two men. “This better be interesting.”

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It’s amusing how Oliver and his wolf friend - Aiden, that's his name - become visibly more anxious when Marcel walks in with Gia and Josh tailing behind him. Like they honestly thought they were safer with Elijah. They were never in an advantage, and Oliver knows exactly how much joy Elijah would take in separating him from his little head. He should thank heavens every day for Caroline, who managed to think logically when issuing his temporary pardon in spite of all the terrible things he's done. Neither Elijah nor Niklaus would've been so practical if it had been up to them.

"So? I hear you need my help?" Marcel demands, every line on his body saying he's not at all in the mood to be friendly. "Start talking."

Oliver takes a step forward, always too bold for his own - or anyone else's - good. "The witch wants soldiers. The influx of new volunteer wolves has gone down, so now it's either join up or pay the price. We're no longer allowed to choose our allegiance. And now she wants children as well."

"Children?" Elijah asks. "Why would she want children when they've hardly triggered their curse?"

"That's the thing," Aiden adds. "She's assembled a group of untriggered wolves, all of them kids, and she plans to have them all kill tonight, so she gets a fresh batch of soldiers."

Elijah glances at Marcel, sees the other man's expression twisting with indignation. For all his flaws and errors, he does have a particular soft spot for children. Anybody trying to harm one makes him see red. He doesn't remember anymore what he did for Eve, but Elijah hasn't forgotten; he's the one who saved his niece's life even though Niklaus had basically left him for dead. It's a debt his family will never be able to fully repay.

"I've known my brother Finn to be merciless in his pursuits," Elijah says grimly. "I'll admit... This exceeds even my expectations."

"Vincent is your brother?" Aiden asks. How much exactly has his mother been sharing with her new followers?

"No. But my brother does inhabit his body, unfortunately."

"Look, man," Oliver intervenes. "They're just kids. None of this is their fault, and they're not being given a choice. Marcel, you know the Quarter like the back of your hand. If anyone can get them out, it's you."

"And where would I take them?"

"There are still some wolves in the deep Bayou, ones that didn't take the ring and didn't want to leave with Caroline either. They can look after them."

"The ones who never sold out, you mean," Marcel sneers, his eyes flaring with accusation at the two men.

Oliver remains completely unfazed. "If you want to look at it that way, that's fine. We did what we had to do."

"You wolves have been fighting us for decades. Why trust us now?"

Aiden lets out a pained breath, his posture sagging visibly. "One of the recruits is my little brother. He's 14. I joined Cassie's team because I thought if I had this ring I could protect him. There's no way I'm sending him to war."

Marcel looks at Elijah, and he knows exactly what the other man is thinking. They can’t turn down this cry for help and let his wretched mother sacrifice a bunch of children for her despicable schemes. Perhaps a year ago Elijah wouldn't have felt so inclined to assist them. This isn't his fight, after all, and... Well, truth be told, he wouldn't hurt a child, but he's never particularly cared for them the same way other people might. But after living with Caroline for as long as he has, the more charitable parts of his heart have blossomed. Now he constantly finds himself striving to do the proverbial _right thing_ , whatever it might be.

If Esther and Finn want to sacrifice kids, regardless of the fact they are little traitorous werewolves, Elijah has to offer a helping hand.

He turns back to Oliver, his mind made up. "Tell us what you need."

They all gather around Marcel's center table while Aiden takes over to explain the plan. From what he says, he's taken the role of _alpha_ under Finn's control, put in charge of almost everything. Unlike Oliver, he's kept the respect of his brethren, so this here provides them with a very unique opportunity. Having another ally infiltrated in his mother's army, and one with actual power, might come in handy. So besides doing this out of the kindness of his heart, he'll also be looking to collect a few favors when the right time comes. It's a win-win situation.

"All right," Aiden begins. "The kids are being held in the city of the dead until we bring them through the Quarter. We're supposed to guide them all the way to St. Anne's church. Now meanwhile, Vincent - or Finn or whoever he is - is holding a meeting with a few humans in the know, the ones who have been reluctant to fall in line with his new leadership, so to speak."

"He's going to use the children to kill any remaining opposition," Elijah concludes.

Aiden nods solemnly. "Activate their curse, send a message to anyone who's thinking about rising against him. It's two birds, one bloodbath."

"Ok, so we'll hit them while the kids are on the move," Marcel says.

"Aiden, make certain you and Oliver escort the children. We'll handle the rest," Elijah adds.

"Wait, wait, wait," Oliver jumps in, waving his hands in the air. "Esther and her psycho son are already giving me the stink-eye. These kids go missing on my watch, I'm as good as dead."

"You wanted to help your people and make amends for the past," Elijah tells him. "Here is your chance. I suggest you take it."

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If it wasn't for all the lights inside the cabin, Klaus would think the place is abandoned. It is derelict, like it wouldn’t resist a storm. The only sounds he can pick up are those coming from the woods surrounding it.

He checks all the windows and sees not a soul, but there are way too many candles burning. Nothing more telling of lingering witchy activity than that. He wonders if Caroline or Camille sent Davina a heads up and the girl ran before he could find her. Klaus feels a renewed flush of anger coursing through him. He's taken with the irrational desire to bring the whole place down, burn it to the ground, just for the sake of destroying something, make the trip out here not a complete waste of his time.

He spins on his heels and walks back to his car, trying to think of what to do next. If he simply goes back home, he and Caroline are going to have an _epic_ , monumental fight, and this is saying a lot considering their entire relationship has been built on arguments - but then he spots something.

At a distance, it looks like an inconspicuous stick, nothing you wouldn't find in a bloody forest. But something about it seems to stand out, sparking to life a memory. Every single one of Mikael's weapons - from carving knifes to swords - had a distinctive symbol on them. Klaus remembers very well the beatings he got from a baton that had it carved on the top. Sometimes, depending on how Mikael hit him, the carving would leave a painful imprint on his skin that would linger for days. He always seemed particularly pleased when his cruelty left marks for everyone to see, especially on Klaus. It was like a badge of dishonor. He'd recognize that cursed symbol anywhere.

It's not just any stick what he sees; it's a weapon, likely hand-carved by Mikael, with his atrocious mark on the top. He is here. He has to be. He would've taken that thing with him if he’d left.

Klaus takes the stick, a white-knuckled grip around it, and stomps back to the cabin. He aims at the living room, where most candles are, and sends it flying through the window. The glass explodes into a thousand little pieces. He hears a scream, and smirks with satisfaction. Clever little brat... Almost got him.

"Enough games, Davina!" he snarls. "Send out my father! Let's finish this."

There are sounds of people moving inside the cabin, low voices discussing hastily, but no one comes out. No one even responds to the attack. "Davina!" he screams again. "Is this not what you brought him for?! Send him out!"

It takes a moment longer, but he finally sees Mikael's figure appearing at the door, his dark silhouette against the light before he comes closer, resuming into flesh and blood and vileness right before Klaus' eyes. He doesn’t miss the stake in his father's hand.

"Hello, _boy_ ," he spits out in that disdainful tone of his. The mere sound of that man’s voice sends rage burning through Klaus' veins. "You seem rather impatient. Are you so eager to meet your end?"

"I'm only eager to stand over your burning corpse again. Only this time I intend to enjoy it more." Klaus keeps his voice level, but he's certain every line on his face is laden with contempt.

"I've traveled all the way back from hell for this moment," Mikael says as he steps closer.

"Well, then I'd hate to keep you waiting."

Klaus makes the first move, barrelling into him with all his might. Mikael deflects his attack, hitting him square on the jaw. Klaus blocks his next move deftly, managing to kick him in the middle and sending him tumbling to the ground. The white oak stake flies from his grip. Klaus connects a second kick to his jaw and then stomps down on his wrist when he tries to reach for the stake, but even with a broken arm Mikael's reaction is still too fast and too fierce.

His fist connects with Klaus' cheek, sends him spinning. For every punch and every hit Klaus gets, Mikael gets two more. He's way too strong for a physical fist fight, even after all these years. Klaus tastes his own blood in his mouth, spitting it out with a disgruntled roar. Something snaps inside of him, his beast clawing for complete release as the darkest part of his rage breaks free.

Klaus charges again with renewed resolve, and he gets one, two, three hits. Mikael stumbles back, disconcerted. This is it, he thinks, this is the time to go for the kill - but then his father dodges his next move, and when he lunges again, his hand closes around Klaus' throat, fingers digging painfully into his flesh. Mikael slams him down hard, the fall stealing all the air off his lungs. Klaus gasps, his eyes watering as he fights to regain his breath, and Mikael takes the chance to aim the stake directly at his heart.

At the last second, Klaus manages to grab a hold of it with both his hands, diverting the tip of the stake to the opposite side of his chest. But no matter how hard he grits his teeth, Mikael is still stronger. He puts a hand on the butt of the stake, pushing it down from above, and Klaus screams in agonizing pain when the tip pierces his flesh. It doesn't reach his heart, though, and that gives him a millisecond chance to react. It’s a hail mary - if he misses, if he hesitates…

Klaus lets go of the stake and, grunting against the pain, he uses one of his hands to reach into his jacket pull out Tunde’s blade, driving it into Mikael's stomach.

The Destroyer tips his head back as a scream rips out of his throat, his eyes widening in confusion as the blade penetrates him, his strength quickly ebbing away as it takes root. Mikael tumbles to the side, made helpless by the dark magic imbued into the blade, convulsing. Klaus blows out a heavy gust of air, closing his fingers around the stake buried in his chest and pulling it out with a loud groan. Even the slightest bit of contact with the white oak is sheer torture. A tiny inch deeper and he would’ve been done for.

Slowly, Klaus pulls himself off the ground. He is sore all over, but the one still standing, with the white oak in his hands and Mikael surrendered at his feet. He tightens his grip on the stake, clenching his jaw so hard his head pounds.

All there is to do is drive it through his father's heart and put an end to this, once and for all.

So why does he hesitate?

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The plan is rather simple, if not exactly foolproof. There are certainly many things that could go wrong, but it's not like they have options. It's not at all how Elijah prefers to conduct his business, hinging dangerously on improvisation, but the cost of failure is losing the children - and giving his mother a whole new generation of devoted werewolves.

While Aiden and Oliver escort the kids through the French Quarter, Gia and Marcel are to start a rouse right under their noses. Aiden then directs the rest of the werewolf convoy to chase them, leaving the children with only him and Oliver. That is potential failure number one. If the werewolves manage to catch Marcel and Gia, they are doomed. Elijah's particularly concerned with this part; Marcel can certainly take care of himself against a couple of wolves, but Gia? Despite her enthusiasm, he's not so confident. They certainly need the extra set of hands, he just… Wishes it didn’t have to be hers. She has too much potential to go to waste so quickly. He tried to convince her to sit this one out, leave it to the more senior members of their esteemed party, so to speak, but she insisted, headstrong as she is.

While the wolves are distracted with the vampires, Oliver is to take the kids to Josh, who will waiting at Rousseau's. There's a secret passageway from the Prohibition days there that Elijah knows intimately, most of it built on either his or Niklaus' orders. It can lead them pretty much anywhere they want to go - including outside the Quarter. Provided they manage to lose the wolves, Marcel and Gia will get the getaway car and wait for them at one of the most secluded exits to hopefully drive them safely to the Bayou.

Oliver’s next task is to keep the wolves on a false track by luring them to a deserted parking lot close to the docks, very far away from where the children are heading - but exactly where Elijah is waiting to keep them occupied.

When Oliver shows up, Elijah takes it as a good indication that things are running smoothly elsewhere. But he shows up on his own, which means... Potential failure number two.

"Where are they?" Elijah asks.

"They were right behind me. Should be here any minute."

Elijah keeps his attention sharp. Every second it takes for the wolves to arrive, he grows a tad more worried that they might've read through their plan and found their way to Marcel and Gia instead of staying on Oliver's trail. A moment later, however, and they hear a click. Elijah breathes out in relief as the place is swamped by werewolves, even more than he expected to see. This is fantastic news. Whatever happens here, the children - and the baby vampire accompanying them - will be out of harm's way.

"Don't bother trying to run," one of the wolves barks at them. "You're surrounded."

Oliver laughs. "Wait... You don't think that we're dumb enough to bring the kids here, do you?"

"Yes, I apologize for any inconveniences," Elijah adds, smiling at the gentleman who's apparently in charge. He’s at least a head taller, and considerably larger as well. Too much muscle, an inordinate amount of confidence, very little brain, which is often the case with these types. Elijah will enjoy taking on this one. "The little ones you seek are elsewhere, which I suppose... Leaves you here with me."

The man snorts. "You're the ones who don't seem to understand. We're not looking for the kids." He bobs his head towards Elijah, looking down on him from his vantage point. "The witch wants you."

Elijah's brow furrows. This is an unexpected turn of events. "You listen to me carefully," he starts as he strips off his jacket. He rather likes this shade of grey; it suits his complexion perfectly. Would be a shame to ruin it. "There's a good friend of mine who sort of cares for your people, for reasons that are honestly beyond me. For her sake, I will allow you to leave freely, right now. Stay, and the situation becomes irrefutably awkward."

Elijah has no idea why he's even offering these people the benefit of the doubt, but for Caroline's sake, because he knows how she feels about those Crescents - and, just like Oliver and Aiden, there might be more of them amongst these troublemakers - he will. His mouth still twists into a satisfied grin when the big man, instead of running, takes on a fighting stance - a rather poor one, mind you. Elijah really is in the mood for a brawl, especially one where he can just let go and not hold back. Oh, well. At least Caroline can rest assured that he tried to spare her _friends_.

He tilts his head to the side. "Very well. Oliver." he turns around to face the other man, who looks fidgety. "You should probably leave now."

Oliver shrugs. "What the hell. Either I'm in or I'm out, right?"

Elijah peers at him approvingly. "Right."

So it's two against - well, dozens. The odds are looking mightly favorable.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Stupid cabin in the middle of nowhere. Stupid heeled boots that won't allow her to go as fast as she wants. Stupid trees and stupid fallen branches and stupid Klaus. _Stupid, stupid, stupid Klaus._

Caroline is not just angry. No, she passed the point of angry about an hour and a half ago. She is seething, _fuming_ , spitting fire like a pissed off dragon. _God_ , she is going to _kill_ Klaus when she finds him. Punch him in that stupid, arrogant face of his. Kick that sorry ass all the way back to New Orleans. And then she's going to fucking _murder_ him. And when he comes back to life, she will kill him again, just to make her point. But before she does that, she is going to give him a real piece of her mind. Oh, and she has a few things to say, all right. He will listen _so_ much his ears will burn and he will _beg_ her to cut them off.

What the _hell_ was he thinking, leaving her stranded at a side of the road dump of a bar in Nowhereville, Louisiana, while he took his car and vanished? Who _does_ that? Caroline was worried, trying to _protect_ him, and was his answer to that _Thank you, Caroline, you are so thoughtful, I really appreciate your concern_ , like a normal person? _No_. He got mad at her, barked some idiotic gibberish and then left.

 _Stupid_ hybrid boyfriend with his _stupid_ hybrid temper.

And the worst thing is, Caroline doesn't know if she's angrier that he left her behind, or that he went on to face Mikael - armed with an indestructible white oak stake - all by himself. If that arrogant, selfish, _idiot_ gets himself killed, Caroline is gonna have to bring him back just so she can kill him herself.

Right now, Caroline is allowing the anger that brushed up against her fear to propel her forward. There are about a dozen different disasters that could come out of Klaus' impulsive - _stupid, stupid_ \- attitude to go and do things all by himself, and if Caroline stops to think about it in depth, she will be crushed by panic, so she doesn't. Living with a bunch of Originals requires a certain level of self-composure even at the toughest, most mind-bending situations. Or at least the capacity to feign well.

It’s not that she doesn't think Klaus can't kick Mikael's ass again, but the odds are pretty tight there. It could go either way. And if Davina decides to intervene, then he is _definitely_ doomed, although Caroline can't imagine she would do that. If Klaus dies, an entire sire line of vampires dies with him, including Marcel and Josh. It's probably why she hasn't unleashed Mikael upon him yet; she must be trying to figure out how to undo the sire bond. In Caroline's opinion, it's impossible. At least to a single witch. What Davina has in resolve and bottled-up anger towards Klaus, she lacks in experience. If it was simple, someone else would've done it already. A thousand years? You can count on at least a few hundred pissed off witches trying to figure their way around the bond. It's probably the strongest magical binder there is. Caroline's pretty confident Davina can't break it. Not yet, anyway. But she finds very little reassurance in that.

She tried to reach Elijah and ask if he was aware of what his crazy brother had set out to do today, but he wasn't answering his phone. Figures. He's barely spoken to her in weeks, why would he take the call? If anything happens to Klaus because Elijah wouldn't answer his goddamn phone, she's holding him responsible.

Her second call was to Cami, asking for directions to the Claire family's cabin. She didn't have an exact location, but gave her as approximation. Not ideal, but better than nothing. Caroline had to compel some rando to drive her all the way to Terrebonne Parish, and then to forget everything and go back to wherever the hell he was going to in the first place. And then she had to _run_ the rest of the way. _In heels_ , through _the woods_ . The fact she can run fast doesn't mean she _likes_ to do it, or makes it any more comfortable, especially when she's in a desperate hurry, and not entirely certain she's going the right way.

After what seems like ages with nothing but dark, looming trees ahead, she finally catches a light in the distance. With her heart pounding manically in her chest, Caroline takes off towards it, and spots a lonesome figure standing right outside a cabin. Her whole body goes cold. It's too dark to see properly - and is that a _body_ on the ground? As she gets closer, she finally recognizes that dirty blonde hair she's had her fingers wrapped around just last night.

Caroline lets out a breath that had been caught in her throat since she left the bar, bright and blissful relief washing through her. As the fear ebbs away, however, the burn of anger remains, stronger than ever. Fists clenched and face set, she charges at him.

" _Klaus_!" He turns around with a bored sigh. She quickly inspects him for any signs of injury - aside from a weird stain on his jacket, he looks... Fine. Wholesome. "Where is she? Where's Davina?"

"Davina is fine. She should wake up with a spectacular headache, but given her intentions for me, she should count herself lucky."

"Oh, _shut up_ !" He arches his eyebrows at the heat in her voice . "I'm _so_ mad at you right now! You can't just do that! You can't ditch me at a bar and run off to meet your maker, who's in power of the only weapon in the goddamn world that can kill you -"

"You mean this one?" He smiles broadly as he shows her the white oak, cocking an eyebrow at her.

" _Shut up_ !" Caroline barks again, slapping his hand down, anger flaring up inside her. "I'm not done yet! I had to _hitchhike_ with a creepy dude who kept ogling my boobs and then _run_ on the backroads of the Bayou!"

“I never asked you to -”

“You never _had to_! What the hell did you think I was gonna do? Go back home to have tea?!”

Klaus sighs, his expression softening just a tad. "Your perseverance is duly noted."

"You think this is _amusing_?" she pokes his shoulder with a finger. "I'm so mad I can hardly speak, Klaus. You're a suicidal maniac!"

"Well, clearly..." He motions a hand towards the body at his feet, and Caroline finally pays attention to it. She'd been so focused on scolding Klaus and being relieved that he's alive that she forgot the other part.

Even lying on the ground, completely helpless, Mikael still gives her the creeps. His eyes are open but unseeing, his body twitching, a large dark stain on his black shirt indicating where, Caroline assumes, Tunde's blade went in.

"He's not dead," she remarks drily. "He should be dead."

"He will be."

Caroline's face snaps up at him once more, and Klaus looks like he's ready to get punched. Maybe because she really must look like she'd love nothing more than to wipe off the smugness on his face with her knuckled fist and it would be no less than he deserves. Instead, however, Caroline tackles him with a tight embrace, pulling him flush against her. There's no way he can't feel her heart hammering away against her ribcage. "Don't fucking scare me like that again," she grits out.

Klaus tenses up, visibly taken aback by her sudden bout of affection. With a slow breath, however, he relaxes into her touch, placing a soft kiss on her temple and smiling against her skin. Caroline mashes her eyes tightly shut, fingers digging into his clothes.

"I told you I could kill him twice," he says, one hand running up and down her back in a soothing move.

In a second, Caroline forgets she's supposed to be mad at him for being such a selfish dickhead who was possibly walking into a death trap without even so much as a heads up to anyone, armed solely with the strength of his extreme self-confidence, and relaxes into the comfort of his arms.

"What are you gonna do now?" she murmurs, looking down at Mikael.

"Not sure yet, but the thought of leaving him withering in complete and utter agony for a while longer is suddenly very appealing.”

“You’re gonna keep him like this?”

“Death is more swift a punishment than he deserves. He should suffer for all he’s done. Perhaps buried in the deepest end of the Mississippi for a few centuries."

A cold shiver runs down Caroline's spine. For some reason, the thought of keeping him alive - regardless of how torturing it might be - makes her very antsy.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

At least half the werewolves took off after the first five minutes of fight - when it became quite clear that numbers did not provide them with any kind of advantages. Elijah takes these weren't part of proud and ancient packs, seeing how little they knew of group combat. Just a mob of despicable rascals who sniffed an opportunity in his mother's offer. Well, he'd say they got what they deserved - and more.

Compared to Oliver, he went lightly on them. Oliver got the worst of the beating, but he was also much more ruthless. There was some anger bottled up inside the little man. When Elijah finishes with his last one, punching him down into the ground where he'll likely stay for a very long time - if he ever wakes up, that is - Oliver is ripping the arm off one of them.

"I guess this is all they got," he says, sounding almost disappointed. Whether it's because he expected more from his former brethren or because he was in the mood for a challenge, Elijah can't tell.

"So it would seem." He stands to his feet, assessing his situation. Not one of the wolves managed to get a bite, just a few scratches, a temporarily broken nose (all healed up) and some minor bruising. His clothes, however... In shreds, and covered in blood.

He clicks his tongue in disgust, ready to retrieve his phone from his preserved jacket to call Marcel and make sure everything went well on his end when he's struck by an excruciating pain in his head. He drops to the floor, on his knees, clutching his temples as his vision explodes in white.

"Actually, I'm just getting started."

In amidst the paralyzing ache, he can still recognize the cold voice in which his brother now speaks. The pain wanes all of a sudden, and Elijah lifts his head to see Oliver flying across the parking lot, crashing hard against a car and dropping unconscious on the floor.

He takes the moment of distraction to attack, flashing his way to Finn and wrapping one hand around his throat. His brother gasps, fear crossing his wide, dark eyes.

"Perhaps your next body will last a little longer than this one... _brother_ ," he sneers, words as venomous as the hatred in his heart.

Before he can finish the job, however, a large stake is driven through his chest, piercing him from the back. All the air is instantly knocked off his lungs as he tries to speak, his strength leaving him at once as he falls down to the ground. Just before darkness comes and sweeps him away, he catches a glimpse of Lenore.

 _Mother_.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Well, we did it," Marcel says, finally allowing a smile to break onto his face.

Little wolves are all safe and sound and delivered to their people out in the Bayou. Despite the tension, everyone got out unscathed. The big wolves never followed him and Gia and Aiden and Josh were able to lead the kids through the tunnels and out of the city without major incidents. Everyone was a bit high on adrenaline, some of the children were definitely scared, but other than that...

Some bad guys got their evil plans spoiled. Kids are all safe. No vampire blood was spilled in the process. That's a good day by any standards on Marcel’s book, but definitely better than most he’s had in many months.

"I never thought I'd see the day when we would join forces with the werewolves, but I guess never say never, ey?" he continues, pouring just two glasses of bourbon. Josh said he had _some other things_ to take care of - by which he likely means Aiden. That kid seriously thinks he can trick Marcel, like anything happens anywhere in that city without him knowing. He's exiled but not stupid. Elijah hasn't showed up either, but then Marcel didn't expect him to. There's only so much mingling Elijah is willing to do with them commoners and he's pretty much filled his good Samaritan quota for the entire week. Celebrations are demure, just him and Gia, but that's ok. They can make a party of two and pat themselves on the book for a job well done.

"It's probably going to make things worse between us and them in the long run," he continues. "But what the hell, right? Relations there were never good anyway. At least we helped some kids. Maybe the next generation of Crescents will remember that and be more kind to their neighborly vampires. Here's another lesson for you." Marcel gets the glasses and walks over to her. "It always gets worse before it gets better."

"Thanks," she says quietly, taking the glass and turning her face to stare out the window, a grim line between her eyebrows. Probably didn't even hear a word of what he said.

"What's the matter? You don't seem very happy for someone who just rescued a bunch of children."

Gia dips her head, looking into her glass. "We left Elijah out there."

Marcel hums in comprehension as he sits down beside her. "You're worried about Elijah."

"Shouldn't you be, too? He hasn't touched base, didn't show up... We don't know what happened."

"I didn't realize the two of you had gotten so close."

Gia shrugs, pursing her lips. "We haven't, I just... Don't fancy the thought of anyone having to fight a bunch of of werewolves by themselves."

"Here's a thing about Elijah, Gia... He's not like the rest of us. He's fought all of my guys, some over a century old, and dozens and dozens of werewolves, all on his own, and beat them. I'd be more worried for the wolves than for him. Trust me," Marcel clinks their glasses together and smiles softly at her. "Elijah can take care of himself."

“Then why hasn’t he said anything?”

Marcel chuckles, amused by her genuine concern. It’s sweet, but awfully naive for someone like her. “He’s a Mikaelson, Gia. He’s not our buddy. There are more important things for him to worry about at home. Like the other baby vampire he’s got in his hands.”

She frowns. “Who _is_ that baby vamp, by the way?”

“You haven’t heard about her yet, have you?” Marcel sits back, making himself comfortable, a lazy smile dancing on his lips. “Well… The story of how Klaus and Elijah ended up back in New Orleans is hella something. And it starts with this girl getting pregnant with a miracle baby and having both the Mikaelson bros up in arms for her.”

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are many complaints I can make about The Originals, but none about the soundtrack, which is GOLD. [This episode ends with a great song called Smile that captures the vibe of what's being built up here very well. I'm linking it here, in case you'd like some background music there to go with your reading.](https://open.spotify.com/track/0HC0DQfCneEYFMRYCG9m4s?si=2QZyDDcAQGGjojrjWjpctg) That's where the lyrics at the beginning are from.
> 
> I obviously steal away any scenes I can, but I also try to fix things about these scenes I didn't like in canon and/or add a different meaning to them cause characters' relationships are very different here. It's what happens with that whole Caroline following Klaus into the swamp situation here. 
> 
> So what do you guys think? Please, drop me a note! :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. S02E05 Red Door

* * *

Elijah's entire world has narrowed down to a long, slim corridor and the girl running ahead of him. He feels a wonderful, terrifying calm as he follows her in purposeful strides. There's no rush; he knows he'll catch her. He always does. They can never escape.

He can hear her raging pulse, smell her blood, taste her fear and the saltiness of her tears. It's intoxicating. There's something positively erotic in this excitement that swells to burst inside of him, the shiver that runs down his spine like a jolt of electricity, the anticipation. And yet he remains perfectly focused - on her clumsy feet that won't allow her to run as fast as she'd like, on the desperate way she turns her head every few seconds, as though waiting - hoping, _praying_ \- for a miracle, the fright that shines through her tear-rimmed eyes. It makes the monster inside of him growl with _want_ , his entire being reduced to the hunger. He wants to breathe her in, feel her quaking in his hands, catch her salty tears with his tongue.

He _craves_ her. It's an animalistic desire that seems to sprout out of the darkest, vilest part of his being. Something fundamental and vital, the sum of his existence. In that moment, he _is_ his hunger, his drive, his wanton need. He is a monster.

She runs and runs and runs, her blonde curls cascading down her back, the most fascinating thing when it catches the dim light of the corridor. It glows like gold. Her long white gown flows behind her in waves - won't it look lovely soaked in red?

She reaches the end of the corridor, lunges against the red door as though it's her Hail Mary. But it's locked, and no matter how much she forces the brass knob, or how strongly her fists bang against it, it simply won't budge. He could've told her, of course; the red door won't open for anyone. Once you're in here, trapped, there is no escape. But that would've ruined the joy of capture. It's so much more pleasing when they think there's salvation. Is there anything more beautiful than watching the death of all hope, the surrender to darkness? That look in their eyes once the lights fade in the exact second reality dawns on them and they understand they’re lost. It’s like witnessing a supernova.

And they do taste so much better when they're scared. Fear floods the body with adrenaline, kickstarting that primitive instinct of fight or flight and adding such an exquisite flavor to the conquest. There’s nothing quite like it.

The sound that escapes her lips when she realizes she’s reached the end of the line is _delicious_ ; something between a sob and a desperate plea. Every time she turns her head around to see how close he is, her screams grow louder, more breathless, vibrating across Elijah’s chest.

She is so beautiful it hurts. So pure he needs to taint her with his foulness. Ravage her with his fangs. Spoil something perfect for the sheer pleasure of it. She needs to be _his_ , and this is how.

When she’s finally within reach, Elijah wraps his hand around her forearm, spins her toward him, ready to bask in that warmth, in that flushed skin, but when she turns, she changes. It's no longer hair the color of wheat and eyes as blue as a summer sky. It's dark hair and eyes the color of winter trees.

 _Katerina_.

No, not Katerina. She lacks the mischief, the sharpness, the edge of danger that can cut you like a knife. This one is softer, filled with compassion and a fright so overwhelming it makes her small. Katerina was never small, not even in the face of death. She was always rising above.

 _Tatia_.

The first love of his life. The _only_ love of his mortal life. The woman who was going to be his wife, who was to bear his children, to be his entire world. So bright, so full of life.

She is sobbing, cowering away from him, trying to free herself from his grip. He could break her with his thumb; snap her in half like a twig. Her determination is commendable; Tatia claws at his chest, punching him with all her might, but he barely feels a thing. Her fight makes him more eager, ravenous, and he tightens his grip, knuckles whitening against her skin, making her gasp in pain. He pulls hard on her hair, tilting her head, his eyes fixed on the sweet spot under her ear where her blood pulses with the mad rhythm of her heart.

Elijah bites her, his entire being awash with euphoria and pleasure, a kind of satisfaction that is hard to describe, impossible to compare. At the same time it satiates him, it makes him crave more. The coppery smell of blood mixes with that soft scent of lavender Tatia always had, and it drives him _crazy_.

And then Elijah startles into wakefulness with a violent jerk. He wheezes, gasping for air, eyes wide and electric as he searches his surroundings. It's dark but for the faint glow provided by candles. He aches all over, his clammy body folding forward in an awkward position; he's on his knees, arms chained to the walls. He pulls on the iron chains with all his strength, but it won't give. He's weak. And sick. Thick saliva coats his mouth like cotton, nausea rolling through his stomach. For a moment, he thinks he'll heave, but there seems to be nothing inside of him.

He can still taste blood in his mouth, though. Warm and viscous and so, so sweet... He mashes his eyes shut against the visions that appear unbidden in his head - Caroline, shaking with fear, running from him, and then Tatia, her eyes so bright as she fought for her life right before he feasted on her.

Elijah lets out a loud, frustrated grunt, shaking his head to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

"Have you forgotten where you are, son?" Elijah's head snaps up at the voice. It takes a second for him to focus, his vision still blurry from whatever they gave him - a super dose of vervain, no doubt, to keep him subdued. He is so distraught he didn't see her there, sitting in the shadows. _Esther_.

"Save your strength. My chains won't break so easily." She nods her head towards something behind him and Elijah follows to find a voodoo puppet hanging from the ceiling. That's why he can't rip out of those chains. This is an old enchantment, representational magic. As long as that doll is there, he'll remain trapped. And the position he's been put in, he can't reach it.

"Were you having sweet dreams?" His mother, wearing the skin of the witch Lenore, asks casually while she walks over to a table and pours herself tea. He can smell the nauseating sweetness of chamomile even from a distance.

Elijah pulls on the chains again, teeth ground together so fiercely his head hurts. "Get out of my head."

"I'm not in your head. You were screaming. Go ahead. Get your bearing. We have much to discuss." She sips from her tea, regarding him from behind the hem of her cup. "I'm curious, though. Who were you dreaming about ripping apart? Was it you and your brother's new plaything, Caroline, or... Was it someone else?" Elijah's nostrils flare, his eyes burning holes into his mother. If she could feel even a shred of the anger he has thrumming through him right now... Almost involuntarily, he pulls on the chains again, trying to launch forward. His arms scream with the effort, very nearly dislocating his shoulder. "Stop fighting, Elijah. You won't free yourself from these chains unless I let you. I brought you here to listen and you're not going anywhere until I've said my piece."

"We have nothing to discuss anymore," he says, his voice scratchy, squeezing out of his dry throat.

"I have a proposition for you, one that is very much in your best interests to hear - and consider - carefully." Esther puts her cup down "I want you to rejoin our family, but as a witch. I want you to leave behind what the grotesque savage vampirism has made of you. Take the body of a mortal, and we can all be happy again, start over. I made this very offer to Caroline, and she seemed rather swayed. That girl had a brilliant future ahead of her as a witch, and it was stripped from her for her involvement with you and your brother. Don't you see, Elijah? As you are now, all you bring into the lives of others is misery and destruction. I'm sure she can be easily persuaded to be brought back as a witch - I could see it in her eyes how much she misses her magic, how wrong she feels in this immortal body. And then... Who knows?" Esther shrugs lightly, smiling. "Maybe given a second chance, with you as a mortal as well, she might choose differently this time. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Elijah eyes the woman whose body his mother inhabits in sheer disbelief. How can she so flippantly use the idea of a life with Caroline to woo him? The woman who was pregnant with her _other_ son's child?

"You do know you're entirely demented, don't you?"

"Am I? I'm not the one who pulls the wings off every beautiful butterfly he finds, like the woman who flits across the edge of your nightmares. She, too, was the object of your brother’s affections. It never stopped you before."

Anger flares up inside of him once more, his whole body tensing as he allows his monster to rise to the surface, veins protruding, eyes reddening, fangs showing. "You let me go, _right now_."

Esther sneers. "How quickly you slip back into your savage self... The moral son I raised is now but a mask worn to hide ancient demons."

"You know nothing about me," he seethes.

"See, that's where you're wrong. I know more about the secrets you carry than you do. Shall I list them? I can begin with the first little butterfly you destroyed, the sweet young widow from our village who caught your eye when you were still human."

Elijah shifts uncomfortably in his place, eyes flickering away from his mother as he feels a stab in his guts. The taste of Tatia's blood is still fresh in his memory - but of course that's but a fabrication of his Esther’s doing. She is the one who killed Tatia all those years ago, who took away the woman both he and Niklaus loved so very deeply.

"Ah, you remember her," she continues. "Of course. How could you ever forget the first girl to steal your heart? She, of mystical blood. The doppelganger Tatia."

"I did nothing but love that woman until the day you took her life," he speaks flatly, the ache of her loss dulled after a thousand years.

"I know that's what you believe, which is precisely why you are here. I need to show you the monster you truly are, Elijah. When I do, you will beg for salvation - and happily, I shall provide it."

Before he can spit out an incensed retort, his mother blows some kind of powder at him. He shuts his eyes, facing away, and when he opens them again, he's no longer inside that dark, damp tomb. The moon is shining bright over his head, the scent of trees and clean grass filling his senses. He hears the sounds of lively chatter and music, of wood crackling in a large fire. His old village, where he grew up, in a night of celebration.

This is a memory. Samhain, when everyone gathered and sacrificed their livestock to appease the gods for a new season. Tatia is resplendent as she dances around the bonfire, that infectious smile of hers capturing Elijah's attention as though she's the only source of light in an otherwise dark night. She sees him, slowing down slightly, a mysterious grin on her lips that, he knows in his heart, is entirely for him.

Until Niklaus appears behind her, dancing like the rest of them, lost in the euphoria of their celebration. He holds her arms gently, spins her towards him and, boldly, an act Elijah knows not to be common for him back then, steals a kiss. Tatia's smile turns brittle, awkward, but she doesn't push him away. Niklaus has been in love with her for as long as Elijah can remember, spent nights and nights awake sculpting her gifts, chasing after wild flowers that he said were as beautiful and rare as her. Elijah feels a piercing stab of jealousy across his chest and turns away. He cannot watch this - the woman who dominates his every thought, destined to marry his brother.

He retreats back into the darkness, away from the commotion, returning to their home to feed the pig that will be offered to the gods. This poor creature's fate suddenly doesn't seem as terrible anymore. There are far worse things in this world.

"You are one lucky pig, Loki," he tells the animal as he throws him a treat.

"Don't tell me you came to save the pig from his fate." He turns around to see Tatia, rosy flush on her cheeks and a cheeky little grin dancing on her lips.

Elijah softens at the sight of her, but that sharp twist of pain remains. "No, I'm afraid Loki is destined to be food... Just as you are destined to love another."

"And you?" Tatia challenges, chin jutted forward as she takes a step forward. "Destined to watch from the shadows, ever the noble martyr? Destiny does not dictate my heart, Elijah. I was destined to throw myself on a pyre after my husband died in battle, but I did not. I chose to live, and I chose to give my heart once more to someone strong..." She approaches him in slow, measured steps. Elijah swallows down audibly, his heart lurching in his chest. "Protective... Fierce... And yet noble and gentle." Tatia reaches out to him, the tips of her fingers grazing his face just barely, enough to send a wave of heat rushing through him. "I choose you, Elijah.”

"But..." he stammers, trying his best to keep the traitorous burst of happiness inside of him at bay. "What of Niklaus?"

"Your brother is sweet, and I'm sure he is destined to make some woman very happy one day, but... That won't be me. My heart already belongs to someone else."

This, right here, Elijah knows, is one of the happiest memories he holds from his mortal life. The moment he knew for a fact that his feelings for Tatia were reciprocated, that she would be his wife. His heart had never felt so whole.

He leans in to kiss her, but Tatia laughs just a breadth away from his lips, splaying her palms on his chest. "And this is where you choose to have our first kiss? Where your mother slaughters the pigs? Not very romant -"

He cuts her off by taking her mouth in his, and this time she doesn't resist, surrendering easily into the liplock. It's almost too much, and he soon has to break away for air. The look in her eyes just then... Happiness as Elijah recalls it in its purest, simplest form. "Perhaps we should set Loki free," he says, conspiratorially. "Seems one's destiny can change after all."

Tatia giggles, her hand sliding to the back of his neck as she pulls him in for another kiss. Elijah feels a gentle breeze against his face, and then a terrible chill chasing down his spine. Suddenly, he's no longer in the comfort of such a tender memory, but back at the tomb, with his aching limbs and the hunger that threatens to eat him alive.

"That was but the beginning," Esther speaks into his face as his head hangs low. He suddenly feels too tired to even keep his body straight. "A brief moment of contentment. That's always how it begins. A butterfly lands upon your finger, unaware that it will lead to her tragic end."

He sends her a dark look from under his lashes. "Her tragic end came when you drained her body of blood, all for a spell to smother the wolf within Niklaus, as memory serves."

"Actually, Elijah. Your memory doesn't serve you at all. You just don't realize it yet. But by the time we are done here... You will."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline is tiptoeing around the cabin's doorway, pacing two steps at a time back and forth, like she expects to suddenly come upon a glitch in the most central and ancient of all vampiric tenets and be allowed inside without an invitation. Her fidgeting is frankly starting to get on Klaus' nerves.

He allowed her to go see to Davina's needs while he handled Mikael, carrying his worthless body all the way to the car and throwing him - quite literally - into the trunk while he writhes and stirs in what Klaus knows to be pure, harrowing agony. It's still not even close to what he deserves, but he does feel somewhat vindicated. He's already started to have ideas on what to do next. Perhaps he could wall Mikael in at Marcel's garden, leave him there to desiccate for a decade or so before he finally stakes him out of this world for good. Sounds like a lovely plan.

Mikael dealt with, they should be on their way back to New Orleans, but Caroline is fretting over Davina. The little witch does have an affinity for the dramatics. Barely a bump to the head and she's still out cold.

" _Do_ something, for God's sake," Caroline tells the lad who's inside with Davina. Apparently Mikael wasn't the only unpleasant distraction she brought with her for her retreat in the deep Bayou.

"I'm a witch, darling, not a nurse," he replies. Something about that man just brushes Klaus wrong. Every time he opens his mouth, he gets a feeling like a nasty scratch at the back of his mind. The accent doesn't help at all. This lad is trying to steal Klaus' thunder. New Orleans can only stomach one mysterious and slightly overbearing Englishman with a volatile temper and the position has already been filled.

The look on Caroline's face says she is thinking the exact same thing.

Klaus stands from where he is, white oak stake firmly in his hands, and walks over to Caroline to take a look at the scene inside. Davina is still lying on the ground, a small cut on her forehead that's already stopped bleeding, and the man with the attitude crouched down beside her.

"We should take her to a hospital," Caroline says.

The man looks up and a smirk breaks onto his lips when he sees Klaus there, a wicked _twinkle_ in his eyes that does a bit more than get on Klaus' nerves. "Hello, darling," he greets. "Back to huff and puff and blow the house down?"

He slits his gaze dangerously. "You know, it's funny how often a person's sharp tongue can end up cutting their own throat."

"Klaus," Caroline scolds. "Give him a break."

"Yeah, she's right, mate," he continues. "You might want to try a bit of lavender under your pillow. Does wonders for stuck-up pillocks with anger issues."

"Hey, shut it, you." Caroline points an admonishing finger at him, a sour bite in her voice.

"I promised not to kill Davina. I said nothing of this insolent sod," Klaus states matter-of-factly, his grip tightening around the stake.

Caroline blows out a heavy gust of air and grabs Klaus by his jacket, dragging him a little further from the door. She pins him with a pointed look. "A minute ago you had the opportunity to kill your father with this thing and you didn't," she speaks, her voice pitched low but harsh. "You're not gonna use it to kill this boy either. Yes, he's annoying, but he's also helping Davina, who's currently unconscious because you nearly drove a stick through her head. Remember Timothy? Remember how that ended? Yeah. We don't have many friends left, Klaus. You hurt this kid, Davina will hate you even more than she already does, which means Marcel will drop out of your team as well, so let's refrain from hurting any more of her friends, ok?"

Klaus puffs out in annoyance, his lips twisting into a disapproving pout. He peeks inside the house again through the window, sees the boy leaning over Davina, putting a pillow under her head and fixing the blanket on top of her. For all his insolence, he does seem concerned.

"Fine," he concedes, handing the stake over to her. Just to make sure, it's best that she takes the weapon away from him. Not that his bare hands won't be enough to cause just as much damage, but it's more of a symbolic gesture of peace, temporarily at least.

"Thank you," Caroline says with a satisfied grin.

Klaus then fishes in his pocket for his car keys and drops them in her hands. "Go get the car. Let's take her to a hospital."

"I'll be right back."

While Caroline walks off, Klaus returns to the door, leaning his shoulder against the threshold and folding his arms across his chest as he regards the boy studiously. He's certainly never seen him before and yet so much about him strikes Klaus with such an odd familiarity. He fixes his gaze on the curve of the lad’s lips - an impish resting face, like he's in on a devastating secret that everyone else is yet to find out - and the haughty jut of his chin.

"You've got a way with words," Klaus remarks idly.

"Well, I've traveled," he replies with a dismissive shrug.

"You seem to have crossed continents in order to weasel your way into Davina's good graces, thereby meddling in my family's business." The boy gets on his feet and comes to stand almost face to face with Klaus by the door, just that tiny bit out of reach, protected by his lack of a formal invitation. "How odd, isn't it? Unless, of course... This is your family business as well," Klaus ventures, and watches as the man's face finally cracks with the self-satisfied smirk that leaves no doubt. Klaus straightens, his voice sharp as a knife. "You know, ever since my dinner with mother and Finn, I'd been wondering when you might make an appearance... Kol."

Kol chuckles in delight, making a show of offering him a flowy bow. "Well, the jig is up. Hello, brother."

Klaus clasps his hands behind his back, the grin on his face entirely stilted. "It's not that I begrudge you hitching a ride back to the land of the living, it's just that you're making all the wrong friends, brother. And I have half a mind to show you how wrong you are."

"But you're not gonna do that, are you?" he challenges. "Because your little blonde friend told you to leave me alone. I remember her. Tasty little thing," he drawls, words leaving his mouth coated in lecherous venom. "I liked her then, the way she'd turn her back on you, leave you high and dry. Must've taught you how to sit and roll over. I'm curious, does she take one of those plastic baggies out when she takes you for a walk?"

Klaus' expression settles into a scowl, his blood boiling in his veins with the desire to claw the brazenness off his brother's face. It appears his mother did a wonderful job in finding a fitting body for their impertinent little brother, because Kol is showing. "Caroline," he calls out, eyes never leaving Kol's. "I've changed my mind. I am gonna kill him after all."

The silence spools out for longer than Klaus' instincts tell him it should. It's not just that Caroline doesn't answer; it's that he hasn't heard the car start either, or any sort of fussing for that matter. "Caroline?" he tries again, alarm bells chiming away in his head.

He abandons Kol to investigate. Before he even gets to the car, he catches a faint scent in the air that immediately gets his hackles up: blood. Klaus picks up his pace and finds the door of his SUV left ajar, red staining the driver's window. His heart speeds up manically, his face whipping around as he searches for any trace of Caroline. But the worst of his fear comes a second later, when he realizes the trunk is open. Klaus steps around the car, and finds it empty.

Fear freezes into something dark inside of him, his heart contracting in his chest.

This is, quite literally, Klaus' worst nightmare. The horror seared onto his brain springs back to life, memories of him carrying Caroline's cold body back to the compound with a plea repeated in his lips like a mantra, feeling as though he had a fist clenched around his lungs while he waited, helpless and defeated, and she fought for her life against his nemesis.

_No, no, no... This can't be happening again._

Klaus rakes a nervous hand through his hair, takes his phone out of his pocket and does the first thing that comes to mind. He curses loudly when Elijah's phone goes straight to voicemail.

"Elijah, where are you?" he seethes angrily into his phone. "Mikael is on the loose with the stake, he's taken Caroline and now I'm weaponless and in need of reinforcements - _urgently_."

With long, angry strides, he returns to the cabin, planting himself before the door with a clear threat in his eyes. He's not beyond taking this entire thing down with the both of them inside, consequences be damned. "Wake her up," he commands. "Tell her to get Mikael back here, _now_."

Kol purses his lips, a finger touching his chin while he takes a seat on an armchair leisurely and pretends to consider with a hum. "Let me think about that... No. But you should probably get going, Nik. Mikael is probably jonesing for a restorative snack about now. Be a shame for you to find - Caroline, is it? - nothing more than a bloodless husk. You know how father enjoys his meals cold. I have a feeling he'll have a particular appetite for your bird."

Klaus snarls, face twisted into a terrible grimace as a bubble of rage rises to his throat, disguising the cold fear that has coiled around his insides like a snake.

"We're not done, you and I," he warns his brother, voice acid and grave, before dashing off into the night.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline is at her wits end. She's determined to stay coolheaded, but her heart is pounding on the edge of panic and, honestly, the odds are _not_ looking in her favor right now.

How the _hell_ did Mikael escape Tunde's blade? That thing took down Klaus. And it _kept_ him down. Mikael couldn't have escaped on his own... Or could he?

The thought makes her bones cold. If he really did rise all by himself, then he is _much_ stronger than Caroline ever gave him credit for, which means... Well, basically... It means she's royally fucked.

As soon as she went back to the car, she saw the trunk was open. In hindsight, she should've sounded the alarm right there. But it didn't occur to her that Mikael would've been able to recover so fast, even if he had been freed from the blade. Before she could come to any conclusions, though, someone snapped her neck from behind and she was gone. She came to with a pounding in her head like someone had put her brain through a meat grinder, swinging uncomfortable on someone's shoulder. As soon as Mikael realized she was up, he threw her on the ground - none too gently, mind you - and started dragging her through the woods, grumbling nonsense about how _weak_ and _useless_ she was.

Caroline tuned it all out while she tried to think, which is a _very_ hard thing to do when someone much stronger than you has an ironclad grip on your wrist, so tight you don't even feel your hand anymore. It took her a moment to recover from the neck snap as well. This is a bit like a milestone moment for every new vampire, she guesses. The first time someone snaps your neck. To her, it always seemed like the equivalent of putting someone to sleep. Almost a mercy. It's quick, it's clean, no one feels a thing and when they wake up, it's all fine again. She's broken vampires' spines left and right like it was nothing. Now she realizes just how much of a bitch this actually is. The fact she heals fast does _not_ mean the recovery is kind. It's almost as though she was brought back to life before her bones were perfectly in place again and had to go through the final stages of it wide awake. She can still feel a phantom pain at the top of her spine, although that might just be how abnormally tense she is.

As soon as she felt reasonably back to her senses, Caroline tried to fight back. She ended up with a bruised clavicle and a broken wrist - which he did not let go of while it healed, by the way, not even when she started _screaming_ behind him; if anything, it made him tighten his grip further, like he was enjoying it, the sadistic asshole.

Mikael is simply too strong. As a witch, she had weapons to fight him. And as a pregnant honorary werewolf, she had the element of surprise. Mikael hadn't expected her to be so powerful, underestimated her based on the vulnerability projected by her Barbie hair and her advanced pregnancy. Plus, he'd been dead back then, something which he is _definitely, definitely_ not anymore. All flesh and bones and vileness. Baby vampire her, werewolf juju or not, has no chance against the Destroyer.

Caroline grunts through clenched teeth and he pulls on her arm, almost sending her tripping to the ground.

"Klaus will find out," she bites out bitterly.

"Oh, he will," Mikael replies without heat. "But I will be ready when he does."

This is the first time he's spoken to her without a direct threat. So Caroline decides to venture. "You had Papa Tunde's blade inside of you. I've seen what that thing does. How did you escape?"

"Easily. I have fought through more pain than anyone, living or dead. But I'm not yet recovered. Once I feed I shall be fully restored."

 _Oh fuck_ , she thinks. This is why he's taking her with him. He's going to use her as bait and then he'll eat her. Mikael doesn't feed on mortals; he's the vampire who drinks vampire blood.

In a moment of despair, Caroline tries to squeeze her hand out of his grip once more, testing to see if he'd gone distracted by the conversation. For a brief second, she almost thinks she'll do it, but then Mikael pulls out Tunde's blade and the cold, sharp edge of it cuts into the skin of her neck. His eyes flash. "Not on you," he says in a clipped, harsh tone. "As much as I would love to, you, my dear... Are leverage. I have plans for you. You will die in the most painful way - _for him_." His lips tug up into a vicious smile. "Right before his eyes."

Caroline gulps loudly, her throat burning where the blade is still touching her, the dark magic imbued in it sending a harsh tingle that spreads through her like a fever. Still, she keeps her chin up, her eyes firmly on his, refusing to back down. If there's one thing she's learned drives Mikael crazy, it's to have people - _weaklings_ \- standing up to him. Well... Bold insolence is one thing Caroline happens to excel at.

"He took you down twice already," she snaps back. "Even I kicked your sorry ass - while I was eight months _pregnant_. What makes you think he can't do it a third time?"

"Hush!" Mikael commands, his eyes spitting fire at her. "You are a betrayer of your nature. You were a witch, now you're a vermin, still crawling behind that bastard's heels. I should've killed you the first time, spared you of becoming this abomination. A _complete_ disgrace to your kind. And as for that little monster you carried inside of you - I told you it wouldn't live, didn't I? If only you'd listened to me and had me put it out of its pathetic misery."

Caroline's fear and irritation hardens into something else at the scorn in his voice. It sends a violent rush of white, searing anger through her veins like poison. She'd been holding on to the last shreds of serenity in her for dear life, but Mikael just touched on the raw now, her Achilles' heel. What sends her over the edge is the throwaway mention of her daughter - the one he tried to kill, and that his wife thinks she did. Caroline's just about had it with these resurrected Mikaelsons talking crap about the baby she was forced to give away because of them.

Inflamed with rage, Caroline grits her teeth and launches at Mikael with all her might. She sees his eyes widening in surprise, and realizes this is her chance. She slams him back into a tree, the impact stealing the air off his lungs, but he pulls her down as he tumbles to the ground. The fall, however, forces him to slacken his hold, and that's when Caroline twists out of his hands and scrapes free.

In vampire speed, she flashes away into the night, no idea which direction she's going - all she wants is to put as much distance between herself and the undead Viking man behind her. She can't really hear anything over the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears. Just as she finally allows herself to take a deeper breath and look over her shoulder, though, his voice sounds in the darkness ahead of her. "That's _cute_ , thinking you can outrun me."

She stops so abruptly she gets whiplash just as Mikael's ominous form materializes right in front of her. Caroline's heart lurches, cold settling deep in her guts. All her hope withers into fear, panic rearing its ugly head once more, but this time dulled by resignation. She realizes, with a sinking feeling, that she could never hope to outrun him. Even if he's not at the height of his form, this is the man who chased after his children relentlessly for _centuries_. The only thing Klaus has ever truly feared. What is a six months old vampire compared to an Original?

"Don't try to run again," Mikael continues. In a blur, he's right in front of her, his breath so close she can feel the menace of its warmth brushing against her skin. Before she can draw a gasp, he's driven a hand inside her chest, his fingers closing around her heart. Caroline's eyes bulge, her lips parting in a desperate attempt to scream, but it dies before it rises to her mouth. "You've got nerves, I'll give you that. But you're not strong enough to beat me, weaker than that bastard you protect. I can end you right here and now if you decide to test my patience." Wish a harsh jerk, he pulls his hand out, and Caroline doubles over, a weak moan escaping her lips.

"For now, you still serve me a purpose." Mikael curls a hand under her chin, forcing her to meet the steel in his gaze. "Don't worry. Your death wish shall be granted, and it won't take long."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kol lets out a frustrated breath as he puts down his phone. It seems like each time he speaks to Finn, he likes his brother a little bit less. Sticking to that side of the family will turn out to be harder than he expected. The only problem is the appeal on the other side is severely lacking as well. The closest thing to a true ally he has right now is that little witch, still out cold inside.

Truth be told, he expected a bit more emotion once his brothers found out about him. He feels so juvenile, so silly... Nik was all but ready to drive that stake through his heart. His distinct lack of sympathy might have prompted Kol to act somewhat impulsively in letting his brother go chase after his pet, possibly to meet his death at the hands of the Destroyer. Kol abhors their father just as much as anyone, but that anger in his brother's eyes made him want to see Nik squirm. And if hurting his girl is the only way to hurt him, well then... Kol can't say he's being eaten away by remorse.

And therein lies his predicament. He was sent here to _avoid_ Nik's death and botch that delinking spell Davina has been working on. As much as he would _love_ to see his almighty brother fall from grace after having his connection to an entire lifetime of vampires severed, mother dearest orders were very clear. Whatever she aims to do to him, she needs that connection to stay intact for the time being. Kol has always feared his mother more than anyone else, even Mikael. Esther is wicked, and she seems to have returned to life even more of a delusional psycho than she'd been on her brief last stint through the land of the living.

Now Klaus is out there ready to pick a fight with Mikael, who's in power of the white oak stake, and Kol is one step closer to failure. He has no illusions that his mother's feelings for him are any nobler than Nik's or Elijah's. She'd put him down in a second if he ruins her plans. It's a reality Kol intends to change sooner rather than later, but for now he still depends on Esther's goodwill and Finn, the ever arse-kisser that he is, is not making his life any easier.

"You either kill the spell or you kill the girl," his brother said with total ease, like it was simple.

Maybe it would be, a few years ago, when Kol was still a carefree vampire with too many decades of damage accumulated in his soul to ever give a rat's arse for anyone else. This new version of him, however, seems to be more soft-hearted than he's ever been before. The strategic removal of his heightened emotions has made me - imagine that - more reasonable. How annoying… He doesn't want to hurt Davina. In fact, he's worried about her. She's been down from that head injury Nik gave her for way too long - all the more reason for him to be testy with his brother. He should be hauling her into his car and driving her to a hospital, but what about Nik? And Mikael? And the spell?

"Oh, bloody hell..." he curses under his breath, scrubbing a hand across his face.

As much as he's having the time of his life being a witch, Kol is not entirely sure he appreciates how responsibility and empathy are weighing down on him. Not feeling is so much easier. He won't ever take that delightful vampiric skill for granted again.

He hears rustling coming from inside the cabin and hurries back in. Davina is stirring awake, at last, her face scrunching up into a grimace as she grunts lowly. Kol can't really help the relief that washes through him when she opens her eyes, blinking slowly at him.

"You're awake," he says, crouching down next to her. "I was starting to freak out here, love. Are you ok?"

He helps her into a sitting position, her hand flying up to her head as she makes a pained face again. "My head..." she mutters. All of a sudden, her expression changes, no doubt due to her memories coming back in a flood, and she starts looking around the cabin with urgency. "What happened?"

"Angry bloke, with a deadly aim," Kol says simply.

"Klaus."

"Yeah, he smashed the place up and then he left."

"Where did he go?"

"To hunt down your pet serial killer friend," he says, arching his eyebrows at her. Davina's brow creases with concern. Clearly still out of sorts, she stands up, wobbling around the room. Kol has to resist the urge to pull her back down. "Listen, not to be Mr. Judgmental here, but I'm starting to question the company you keep."

"The white oak stake?" she asks, not even listening to him.

"It's gone, I'm afraid. The serial killer one took it."

Kol feels a bit of a pang when she touches her bracelet and starts calling out for his father. When Klaus blew the windows, Mikael threatened to kill Kol and Davina if he didn't set him free. With the girl passed out, his only choice was to disrupt the magic on her precious bracelet, making it useless. Something else Esther would probably not approve of. Then again, his mother is yet to find out that dear daddy has also returned from the dead. Kol isn't entirely certain why he's kept that bit of news from her and Finn. Might have something to do with the fact that, whichever way he looks at it, he doesn't think having Esther and Mikael reunited will ever be a good thing for anyone, including himself. It was hard enough having to outrun his father for the better part of a millennium, and then almost dying at the hands of Esther in Mystic Falls. The two of them together is a novelty he does not look forward to.

"Why isn't this thing working?" Davina mutters, rubbing her bracelet, an edge of despair on her voice.

"Sit down, love," Kol says, pulling her gently by the arms and setting her down on the armchair. "You were out for quite a long time. Maybe that's got something to do with that. Here, have some wa -"

"No, you don't understand," the little witch cuts him off, a storm brewing behind her beautiful eyes. "If Mikael is free, and with the white oak stake, he can kill Klaus, and then my friends die, too."

"Well, if I understand all this, Mikael has been trying to kill Nik for eons. How are you gonna stop him?"

Davina opens her mouth to reply, but then she stops, her eyes narrowing at him. "Did you just call him _Nik_?"

_Oh, for bloody's sake..._

While Kol fumbles for an excuse to cover up his slip, Davina launches forward and wraps her hands around his wrists, chanting loudly. It sends an unpleasant jolt running up Kol's arms, his head suddenly airy. He can _feel_ her prodding into his mind, digging through his memories. He recovers fast, jerking free from her grasp and taking a step back, but it's too late. Whatever Davina saw, was enough.

Her lips twist with rage, fury burning hot behind her eyes.

"Davina -"

"You're one of them," she spits at him. "And you messed with my bracelet. Liar!" She puts a hand out and sends Kol harshly against the wall behind him. The crash makes him see double for a moment, pain radiating all through his body. Another terrible down side of this new body - how much everything fucking _hurts_.

Gritting his teeth, he responds in kind, flinging a hand out and using all the concentration he can muster to push Davina against the wall behind her. He doesn't mean to hurt her, just to make her stop, but he's hardly in a position to threaten her anyway. In a second, Davina has already regained her footing. She grunts as she puts both palms out towards him, giving Kol a headache for the ages.

He falls down on his knees, clutching his head with both hands. "Ok, ok, ok!" he screams, pleading. "Stop!"

The worst of it ceases, though the phantom pain lingers on as Davina approaches him, hands out ready to strike once more. "You ruined my bracelet and now my friends are going to die because of you!" she lashes out, nostrils flaring in anger.

"My mother told me to either kill the spell you were about to do to unlink Nik's sire bond, or kill you," he blurts out. "And I happen to like you."

She scoffs acidly. "Please!"

"You don't know my mother, all right?" Slowly, Kol pushes himself up from the floor. "You don't disobey her without some consequences. Yes, she brought me back to life, but she's mad as a hatter. And that man you've made your pet, my father - he's even more of a lunatic than she is."

"What, so you just unleash him? Is that you're brilliant solution?"

"You're the one who brought him back to life," he counters with fire.

"I had him under control!" Davina grinds out.

"Right until the point you didn't, which is when he threatened me. He was going to kill both of us when you passed out if I didn't free him, so I did." Kol puts both his arms out in front of him. "You want to know my secrets? Go ahead. Have at it. My name is Kol and yes, I'm a Mikaelson, but I've got just as much reason to loathe the lot of them as you do, maybe more. If you don't believe, see for yourself."

He offers his arm to her again. Davina looks down at his hands, considering. She is conflicted, torn between her hatred for his family and something else. Perhaps something similar to what makes Kol trust her so openly, willing to give her free access into his mind. For a second, he feels a flicker of hope inside of him, but he wills it away, forbids it from taking root. His fondness for this girl is going to get in the way of all his plans. The last thing he needs is to make a _friend_. He should take Nik's lesson to heart; his stupid brother just went running towards death because of a girl. Kol has never once risked his neck for another person; he's not about to start doing it now, when his neck has suddenly become so much more fragile.

After another beat, Davina puffs out in frustration. "How did you deactivate my bracelet?"

"It's a dark object," he explains. "I know a little something about creating and destroying them."

"Show me."

"I can't make it work again."

"That's not what I want to destroy."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You're hungry, aren't you? It's been hours since you fed."

Elijah closes his eyes, drawing the air in slowly, trying to will away the hunger. It's useless, of course. It really has been too long since he last fed and his mother's magic, whatever she's doing to him, is clearly making him weaker still. He can feel it in his bones, the craving, gnawing away at him.

He doesn't want to surrender, to give his mother the satisfaction of seeing him weak and desperate for human blood, but with each passing hour, Elijah grows yet more anemic and debilitated, and his defenses against her sorcery lower to dangerous levels of vulnerability. More of this and he'll be entirely in her hands, completely devoid of any power to fight whatever it is she intends to do to him. That is what worries him the most - not his own well-being, but the damage he might cause to others. And considering what has come to pass so far, he can make an educated guess on what her goal might be.

Images of Caroline running away from him, her face wrought deep with terror, immediately flare up in his mind. He knows that was one of his mother's nasty little tricks, but it felt so real... The idea that he might hurt her, that she might ever look at him with that kind of soul-wrecking fear in her eyes... _No._ It won't ever happen. He would never allow it.

"What an awful thing, to feed upon the blood of others," Esther continues with feigned sympathy. "For this I blame myself and your father. We tried to make you children strong, but instead we cursed you all, and caused the death of poor Tatia... All she ever did was love you. Follow you into the woods as you went to rescue your brother. Do you remember? You found Niklaus shortly after he'd transformed back after his first full moon. Desperate... Confused... Scared of himself. Surrounded with bodies of villagers he slaughtered during the night. And Tatia saw you. Saw him, what he'd become. Saw the truth of what you both were."

Elijah gives her a look like a silent growl. "I fail to see your point here. I compelled Tatia to forget what she saw, and she did."

"You'd only been a vampire for a few days, Elijah. You hadn't yet learned compulsion."

"No, I..." Elijah’s voice days out, his memories becoming foggy as doubt settles instead, his determination waning for the first time. "I remember it," he repeats, but with a lot less fire than he had a moment before.

"Do you?" his mother presses. "Back then, you still thought there were lines you wouldn't cross, people you wouldn't hurt, things you wouldn't do. But you were wrong. That is what I'm here to show you. She ran away from you, and you chased after her. But she tripped over a root, and you caught up, tried to tell her not to be afraid, that you wouldn't hurt her... But then you felt it. The scent of fresh blood. She'd cut her hand when she fell, and it was calling to you. You were so young still, how could you resist it? The hunger was uncontrollable. It was stronger than even your feelings for Tatia."

That's not how he remembers it, it's not what he _knows_ happened that day. But as Esther narrates the events of that morning, the images unroll in his mind as though he's watching a movie, recalling every detail of it with perfect accuracy, like it'd happened just yesterday rather than over a thousand years in the past. Tatia's despair as she fled from him, the fear and disgust as she saw his eyes changing, his fangs showing even as he swore he'd never hurt her. The smell of her blood awakening an animalistic greed that took over his entire being, stealing away all of his sense of awareness and restraint.

"I always thought you would protect her," his mother ploughs on. "That she would be your wife and I would one day call her daughter. Instead..."

Elijah shakes his head, clenching his jaw. "I didn't hurt her!" he grits out.

"You've taught yourself to hide from who and what you are for a thousand years, Elijah."

"No," he snaps, his composure crumbling. "I did not hurt Tatia! I _could_ not. I _loved_ her."

"Do you not think yourself capable of hurting those you love, Elijah? Has your love never brought death upon others?" Elijah thinks of Celeste. Of Katerina. Of Caroline. And he hesitates, sinking further onto his knees, his arms stretching out painfully. Esther sees the flicker of doubt in his eyes and steps closer. "You did hurt Tatia."

The witch opens her palm and blows more of that dust in his face. Once more, he's transported back to his old village, this time to that fateful day, when Tatia was killed.

She's standing right before him, but she's no longer smiling like sunshine, her eyes no longer sparkle with love. Instead, she seems terrified, every line on her beautiful face twisted with fear.

"What _are_ you?" she asks, her voice shaking on the edge of tears.

"I'm the same I've always been," Elijah pleads. "I'm the one who loves you."

Tatia shakes her head. "Your mother asked me for my blood. She said nothing of the dark magic that would turn you into a _monster_. All those deaths, the people who have gone missing... It was all you and your family!"

"Tatia, look at me, _please_. I'm not a... Monst..." His voice trickles away as the coppery scent of blood stains the air, the beast inside of him stirring in awareness as his eyes slide to her hand. She must've cut it open when she fell. It's bleeding profusely. His stomach turns at the sight of all that red dripping from her palm. It's suddenly everything he sees.

" _No!_ " Tatia snarls at him, slapping his face with her good hand.

Oh, how he wishes she hadn't...

"I said I wouldn't hurt you," he repeats through grit teeth, his voice edging on a plea. "And I don't want to..." He feels the monster awakening again, and this time he knows he won't be able to hold it back. It's too strong. " _Run_."

She does not falter, turning on her heels and dashing off into the woods as fast as she can. But it's not nearly fast enough... He's much too powerful. There is no escaping him. He can let her run for as long as she wants, hide in the deepest, darkest part of the forest; with that injured hand leaving breadcrumbs behind, he will find her. And, oh, how he _aches_ for her...

It's not even a minute later when Elijah sets off, catching her in mere seconds. He grabs her shoulders, spins her towards him and doesn't even blink before he bites into her neck. He can taste her in his mouth - the exceptional sweetness of her doppelganger blood. It's unlike any other, too good for him to waste even a drop of it.

Tatia tries to fight him, push him away, screaming as she does, his teeth lacerating the flesh on her neck as she trashes away aimlessly in his hold. He barely even feels a thing. Eventually, she slows down, her arms too heavy for her to keep battling, surrender taking hold as the light in her eyes dim until, at last, she stops.

" _No!_ " An anguished roar rips out of his chest as he pulls himself out of his mother's enchantment by sheer force of will. This is _painful_ . Elijah's breath catches, his head spinning as the images settle into his mind like memories, rather than a forgery. He can't have done that to Tatia. " _You_ murdered her," he accuses Esther, his voice thick with emotion as he lifts his gaze to hers unflinching one. "For her blood, and then you used it to cripple Niklaus for centuries. I won't listen to any more of your lies!"

"You don't have to listen, son. You only have to remember."

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In hindsight, perhaps a little meekness would've been sensible when dealing with an all-powerful immortal being that feeds on vampires and is highly motivated to hurt her in unspeakable ways. But sensibility is a department where Caroline has been sorely lacking since her transformation.

If Mikael was being brutish before, it's nothing compared to _after_ her attempted escape. Caroline is pretty certain her death will be a long and painful one, but that's not really what concerns her the most. Whatever he has planned for Klaus... It's definitely going to be a thousand times worse. And knowing her stupid hybrid boyfriend’s temper, he won’t back down for nothing, not even so their daughter won’t be orphaned before she even gets a chance to meet her parents.

Mikael hauls her through the woods all night long. The sky has already turned a pale shade of grey by the time they finally stop. "This will do," he mutters as his eyes set on what seems to be an abandoned warehouse. He easily breaks the large doors open and pushes Caroline inside, throwing her down once he's decided that's where they're going to wait.

She scrapes her hands and elbows on the fall, gritting her teeth and hissing out a curse against the burning sting. "Asshole," she mutters as she slowly pulls herself up, refusing to stay down before him. If what he wants is a scaredy cat ready to beg for her life and bow down before his superiority, it's the last thing he’ll get from her. The contrition boat has long sailed. She may not have much longer to live, but she still has her pride.

He barks out something that might be laughter but sounds more like a growl. "The manners of a savage, of course."

"Oh, you wanna talk manners?" she snaps, glaring at him. "Let's discuss the way you dragged a woman across the freaking swamp all night."

"Woman!" he sneers. "You, my darling, are no woman. You're a _beast_."

"Says the thousand years old caveman turned vampire," Caroline scoffs derisively. Mikael's eyes flash, his lips twisting. "You know, I used to think I knew what a bad parent was. Maybe you've ran into my father, I'm sure there's a special place in hell for your kind. Monsters that would hurt their own children. Mine tried to kill me, too. I'm sure you'd have _loads_ to bond over. But even with all the horrible things he did, he was _nothing_ compared to how despicable _you_ are. Klaus said I couldn't even imagine how deep your hatred ran. He was right."

"I didn't always hate him. When Niklaus was born, I was overjoyed. I thought, _this one_ ... This one has the eyes of a warrior. He will be worthy. More than Finn and even Elijah," he says, his voice brimming with heat but no warmth whatsoever. "But my hope was short-lived. And when I found out that he wasn't really my son, my relief was _glorious_!" he spits out, an ugly, wicked smile on his face. "But that, too, passed with the knowledge that he was begat of a beast."

"His mother's infidelity was not his fault," she counters. "He never asked to be born."

" _Everything_ that followed was because of Niklaus' obsession with the wolves. He ventured out to watch them turn under the full moon, and he took my youngest son, Henrik. He was but a child, and he was torn apart."

"He didn't mean for that to happen."

" _He didn't mean it_ ?!" Mikael snarls furiously. "He was too weak to even defend himself against those animals, how would he ever be able to defend a _child_ ?! _He murdered my wife_ ! His own mother, who sought to cleanse him of his beast-like nature! _He_ betrayed _me_ ! Turned my entire family - my _real_ children - against me. And yet you defend him!"

" _You_ made him like that!" Caroline points an accusing finger at him, stabbing the air. "He was never a beast. He was a boy who grew up unloved and abused by the one person he respected the most. It was _your hatred_ that twisted him all up, made him obsessed with being strong, thinking that everything that mattered to him in this world would make him weak." Mikael's eyes bore into her with a predatory glint, but Caroline stands her ground, head stubbornly high, her own gaze unflinching. In some distant part of her subconscious, she fully realizes what she’s doing is insane, and yet the verbose rush of anger won’t stop coming, fire raging through her being like somebody stroke a match.

"Your _real_ children chose to take their brother's side because they saw the way you treated him every day, how much of a _lousy_ father you were, even to them. That’s what gets to you the most, isn’t it? What you just can’t get over. That they _love_ him in a way they never loved you. They have stood by Klaus’ side for a thousand years and they will stand for a thousand more while even as humans they couldn’t wait to get away from you. All this time and you still haven't understood that your children hate you because you’re _awful_."

Mikael's mouth crooks downwards into a terrible grimace, and for the first time Caroline actually feels the cold stirrings of fear in her stomach. She takes one step further away from him, swallows, but doesn't back down.

His lips part slowly, and for a moment she thinks he's going to bark at her, maybe even launch at her, strike her down, but then he starts laughing. A horrible sound that conveys absolutely no joy. "You're pathetic," he says, reigning himself in. "I see why he would seek your company. One of those optimists, are you? Tell me, do you see _good_ in Niklaus? Do you think _you_ shall be the magic piece of the puzzle that will save him from himself?" He laughs again. "You're pitiful, just like him. And now he's ruined the only redeeming quality about you, made you an equal. A monster who _reeks_ of werewolf. Frankly, you're making me hungry. And since my wound is taking forever to heal, I could use with a bit of a snack."

Mikael advances towards her and Caroline recoils, pressing flush against the wall behind her. "You said I was leverage."

He sneers, the veins around his eyes popping as his sharp, glinting fangs show. "I changed my mind. In times of need, even the devil eats flies."

In a blur, he's on her, one hand fisted around her hair. He pulls on it strongly, forcing her to expose her neck, and plunges his teeth into her. Caroline screams in pain, but no amount of thrashing is enough to shove him off.

 _This is it, then_ , she thinks. _This is how I die._

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"You know, bleeding power from a dark object is tricky," Kol says conversationally as they trudge through the woods to where he left his car. "So it does help to know what kind of object it is."

As soon as he'd shown Davina the spell to disable the dark magic imbued into an object, she put on her jacket and asked him to take her to his car.

"But where are we going?"

"Just take me to the car."

"I already told you I can't fix your -"

"And I already told you that's not what I'm going to disrupt. Now stop talking and show me to your car."

Kol obliged, but not without some whining for good measure. She seems to have forgiven him for the time being, but refuses to share he plans. Davina may be an incredibly talented witch, but she does so suffer from the innate hubris that afflicts all powerful creatures. If he's sensing it right, she's about to put her pretty little neck in the line of fire to save her little friends from Nik’s reckless behavior.

"Fine," she says around a sigh. "It's the white oak stake."

"You wanna drain the white oak stake, do you?" Kol sneers. _Hubris_.

"It's a dark object. If I can't stop Mikael, I have to stop that stake from working. I just need to get closer."

"See, usually I like a girl with ambition, but I feel I'd be a knobhead if I didn't tell you that's just beyond mad."

"Stop stalling me!" Davina snaps, grabbing his arm and spinning him around so he's facing all of the heat in her gaze. "If you don't want to help, then don't get in my way. People more powerful than you have regretted underestimating me. You've shown me the spell, I can do this."

"The problem is not the spell, love. The problem is the stake. It's too powerful, we can't just drain it like I did to your bracelet. The best you can hope for is to disable it, but just for a bit."

She folds her arms across her chest. "So do you have a better solution? Because I don't have time to argue." Davina puts her hand out to him, palm up. "Give me the keys."

Kol's eyebrows shoot up to his hair, his lips twisting into an amused smile he can't really help. She's got spunk for such a wee girl.

"What are you gonna do?" he asks. "Just gonna drive around until you bump into them?"

Davina's eyes flash with annoyance at his obvious condescension. "You may have messed with my bracelet, but I made sure months ago that I would always be able to find Mikael."

Kol lets out a deep sigh, feigning indecision. He doesn't like any of this, of course; being anywhere near Mikael makes even this borrowed skin crawl. Still, he was never gonna let her do this on her own. Mother set him out to protect Nik's arrogant arse - and, well, if he's a tiny little bit concerned for Davina, he's sure it's nothing.

"All right, fine. Your funeral." He fishes his keys out of his jeans' pockets and tosses it up in the air, fixing her with a lopsided smile before he walks around the car, towards the driver's seat. "I'm not going to let you drive me bloody car, though." Davina's eyebrows slash together with disapproval. "What? It's a classic."

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"Oh, bloody hell," Klaus grumbles moodily when yet another frat boy wearing a strange mask comes charging towards him, an iron bar in his hands. Klaus merely sighs, dodges slightly to the left and punches the boy in the stomach. Even from behind the mask, he can see the lad's eyes bulging comically when all air is knocked off his lungs. He passes out almost instantly. This will leave him in pain for at least a fortnight, for sure, if it doesn't give him an internal bleeding - in which case, he'll probably die in the next two or three hours. He's one of the lucky ones, though. Most of his _colleagues_ are already gone, broken spines, broken necks, impaled by their own makeshift weapons. Klaus even fed on two or three, replenishing his energies.

No doubt this is Mikael's idea of a _distraction_. Ran into these poor sods and compelled them all to stall Klaus. If he needs him distracted, however, it means he's not entirely recovered. However he managed to escape the blade, it caused some damage. But that offers very little relief; Mikael doesn't feed on humans, but he does on vampires, and the one he currently holds captive has already been hurt.

Klaus followed Caroline's scent all through the woods. The trace got faint at certain parts, but he managed to stay on the right track until he no longer sensed only Caroline's distinctive perfume, but her blood. He found a pool of it, ingrained into the earth. It was unmistakably hers. Klaus' anger morphed into something cold and dark, his urgency turning desperate.

He willed away the bubble of panic flaring up inside of him; it would do him no good to lose his mind now. He had to stay _focused_ , or else he'd lose her track and then it'd be too late. That was when he stumbled upon what seemed to be a bonfire of some sort, with all these pathetic boys in ridiculous masks scattered around it. They attacked him all at once. Of course Mikael knew he would not hesitate to kill every last one of them, but the mere fact he'd have to do it would cost him precious time.

When he finally puts the last of the riffraff down, Klaus' phone starts ringing. His teeth click together in annoyance, but he takes the call. "What is it, Marcel? I'm a tad busy."

"Something's happened to Elijah," Marcellus goes straight to the point. "He was supposed to be our decoy at this thing last night and now he's vanished. The place where he was supposed to be is covered in blood, both werewolf and vampire. We could use your help to track it."

 _Brilliant_. So not only is Caroline is danger at the hands of Mikael, his brother also found a way to get himself in harm's way. That explains why Klaus hasn't heard from him yet. Not like Elijah to ignore a distress signal, especially one that involves Caroline. Part of Klaus was still counting on him making a sudden appearance to offer a much needed support, but now he knows he has no one to count on. Caroline's life, as well as his own, rest exclusively in his hands.

"As much as I would love to help you find my brother, I have more pressing matters at the moment."

"What's more important than your brother?"

"Caroline."

"What? What happened to her?"

"Davina's magic leash on Mikael has broken and now he not only has the white oak stake, but he also has her. I'm going to get her back, and then I'm gonna end this once and for all. Either Mikael or I will be ash by the day's end." He can hear the curse under Marcel's breath. Of course if Klaus ends up dead tonight, then so does he. He'd like to have more time for a proper farewell and a dash of emotion on what might be their last ever conversation, but, unfortunately, there is no time. "If you do find my brother, please tell him I could've used a hand."

He hangs up, puts his phone away and flashes off to meet his fate.

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"You're distorting my memories," Elijah says, his voice low and airy, only above a whisper, but even he can hear the thread of uncertainty underlying his denial. His mother's seed has taken root, he can no longer tell memory from fabrication. His ardor has considerably dimmed, but he refuses to cave in. "It was you who killed Tatia. That is what we've always known."

"Oh, son..." Esther speaks around an exhale. "I used her blood to bind the spell that suppressed Niklaus' werewolf aspect. But by the time you brought her to me, she was already dead."

"You can't rewrite history!" he growls.

"No, I cannot. And I did not. Not until I heard your consent. You came to me with her body in your arms. It was too late. I told you that you were a good son, to let me take care of it, that I could help make it all go away."

Elijah shuts his eyes once more as vivid memories appear in his mind. He can see it, feel it... The weight of Tatia’s slim body in his arms, her pale skin, the cold... The horror that flashes in his mother's eyes for a brief second before she covers it, setting her face to determination as she takes Tatia's body from his hands and carries it inside the slaughterhouse, shutting the red door behind her. Elijah falls to his knees, the sweet taste of her magical blood still coating his throat, its bright crimson staining his hands.

"Do you remember what I said to you?" Esther continues, present and past scrambling and merging inside his head. "You will not suffer from this memory, or be tormented by the guilt of your misdeed. What goes behind that door shall stay there and be forgotten. Then I told you to clean yourself up, that if you were clean, no one would know what you were and what you'd done. And you did exactly that... And more. You created a place in your mind to put your victims. You began to believe that as long as your suit was immaculate and your hands clean, you could look in the mirror and tell yourself it's all ok. No one need know what's behind the red door."

Elijah feels sick, a breath caught behind his throat, his limbs heavy as his mind slows. Esther's voice becomes but a distant echo. He sees Caroline running from him, clawing hopelessly against the red door, trying to get away. The same red door where Esther took Tatia, from where she never came out.

"The problem, Elijah, is that a thousand years is a very long time. A place meant to hold one unforgivable sin is now full to bursting with your monstrous deeds."

" _Stop_!"

"How long before it's your beloved Caroline's corpse behind that door?"

"Stop," he begs, defeated, his voice a gasp.

"You must be afraid that being loved by you and your brother will destroy her, as it destroyed Tatia," Esther presses mercilessly. "Take my offer, the both of you. In new bodies, you'll be alive again. Maybe you could give her a child to replace the one she lost."

Elijah dares to look up at his mother, at the feverish dementia ablaze behind her eyes. The moment she starts suggesting, once more, that Elijah should take her plea deal so he might have a chance with Caroline is the moment she loses him. It proves this woman - his maker in every sense of the word - knows absolutely nothing about him, even after spending a thousand years on the Other Side doing nothing but watching his and his siblings' every move. Her selfishness is so great she cannot see past her own deranged desires, and fails to perceive the most fundamental thing about him: he would never betray his brother like this. Elijah wouldn't sacrifice Niklaus' happiness for his own, not when he has been fighting for it his entire life.

"You will not break me," he speaks in a cold, sharp tone, looking straight at her, filled with a sudden bout of clarity.

Esther approaches him, reaching out to cup his face with her hands. "You are already broken, my beautiful boy... But not beyond repair. I am here to fix you. I am here to fix you all."

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Klaus spots the abandoned warehouse and immediately knows he's at the right place. Caroline's scent is stronger here - her blood staining the cool morning breeze. He feels the burn of blinding anger inside of him, spreading across his entire being. He bunches his hands into fists, his beast roaring into life, _itching_ to be unleashed and tear that man apart limb by limb.

He finds a shovel outside, picks it up and snaps it in two, taking the pointier end with him as a makeshift stake. It can't kill Mikael, but it can take him down long enough for Klaus to retrieve the white oak and be done with this.

As soon as he enters, he finds Mikael already waiting for him - with Caroline. Klaus freezes in his spot, stunned at the sight of her limp body being held up by Mikael's grip around her neck. She looks pale, a large gash on the curve of her neck. Klaus feels anger vibrating like a living, breathing thing inside of him at the thought of that monster touching her skin, those repugnant lips of his tasting Caroline.

He thinks he’s going to explode when Mikael finally lets go of her and she drops in a gracelessly heap to the ground, like a corpse. Klaus' heart contracts painfully in his chest, bile rising to his throat when he thinks - for a moment, he thinks... But then he hears it, faint and slow, but heartbeats. She's not yet dead. He must've fed on her, nearly drained her completely, to the point she can’t even heal, but he didn't kill her. Caroline is still alive.

Klaus lets out a relieved breath as he sets his gaze back on the hateful man standing tall before him, his face smeared red with Caroline's blood. Klaus braces himself for confrontation, all the sharp edges of his anger poking at him, rekindling the vilest part of his rage back to life.

"You will pay for hurting her," he spits out, words mangled by revulsion.

"Oh, that's sweet..." Mikael sneers. "The cur whines for his bitch. I'll make sure to drain the rest of her right in front of your eyes, just before you burn."

Mikael takes out the stake, closing his hands around it, Papa Tunde's blade firmly held on the other. In objective terms, this puts Klaus at a deep disadvantage. But the way he feels right now... He could take down the entire world at once.

Klaus grits his teeth and charges ferociously at Mikael with a grunt, punching him into the ground. But the man is up in a second, and he takes a step back, circling him. Mikael then makes the next move, managing to shove Klaus against a wall and aim the white oak stake at his heart. Klaus closes his hand around Mikael's forearm and the two of them battle for control. The Destroyer seems stronger than ever now - but Klaus is _angrier_.

He knocks his forehead against his father's and pushes him off, sending him flying through a wall. Mikael's hold on his arm doesn't give, however, and he pulls Klaus down with him, the two of them rolling on the ground on top of debris and dust.

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Caroline slowly blinks her eyes open, her head spinning. For a long disorienting moment, she can't even tell where she is, her eyes blurring as pain splinters through her skull. She feels weak, her limbs way too heavy, a terrible ache starting on her neck and radiating onwards. But then she finally catches the sounds of fighting - fists connecting with flesh and bone, grunting and growling and... Is that a wall crumbling?

Realization comes back to her in a dizzying rush, and she immediately tries to push herself up. With much difficulty, she moves into a sitting position, her arms quaking under her weight, and then takes a hand up to her neck. The spot where Mikael bit her still hasn't healed. The asshole almost bled her dry.

When her vision stops swimming enough for her to focus on the blur movements ahead of her, Klaus seems to have overpowered Mikael. He's on top of him, pushing the stake down into his father's chest with all his might. Mikael howls as it touches his skin. Caroline holds her breath as a flicker of hope dares to rise up.

"I'm not as weak as you remember, am I?" Klaus grits out. He's so close... Just a tiny inch more and the stake will pierce his chest, and then Mikael will be gone forever.

Everything happens too fast. Mikael's hand closes around something and he throws it - not at Klaus, but at her. All Caroline sees is a blur, her reflexes way too slow for her to properly react or move out of the way. Klaus lets go of Mikael and flashes over to her, grabbing a hold of - she sees it now - Papa Tunde's blade in the nick of time, the pointy end of it inches away from her face. Caroline gulps down hard, her heart skipping a beat as she realizes how dangerously close from certain death she was. The way she is, this thing would've finished her in a second.

But she doesn't even have enough time to say thank you. Mikael uses Klaus' distraction to regain the vantage point. He twists Klaus' arm behind his back to steal the stake away from him. Caroline hears the loud crack of bone breaking as a loud scream rips out of Klaus' mouth. This time, the Destroyer wastes no time: he simply aims the stake at Klaus' chest and drives it through his heart.

" _NO_!" Caroline hollers desperately, her voice scratching her dry throat like sandpaper. Klaus' lips part in a muted gasp as he falls down, eyes open. His skin greys immediately, his veins blackening as he desiccates. "No! NO!" Her eyes well up, the terrible sounds escaping her throat halfway to sobs. Caroline feels everything draining out of her, all feeling and breath and the last remains of strength, leaving her cold.

A beat goes by. Then another. And she realizes - just as Mikael does - that something is not... Normal. Both Finn and Kol burst into flames right after they were staked, but Klaus hasn't.

"Why aren't you burning?" Mikael speaks. "If you were dead, you would burn... _Burn_!" he commands.

Caroline reels back her tears, trying to gather her wits. Something's happening. This isn't over yet, there's still a chance.

She catches sounds coming from outside the warehouse. Voices speaking rapidly and in tandem. Chanting. _Witches_. Someone is jacking with the power of the stake, and that is what's keeping Klaus from burning. But at the same time she hears it, so does Mikael. He turns around and marches outside, no doubt ready to rip the heads off whoever is screwing with his plans. But that gives Caroline the opportunity she needs.

As soon as Mikael's back is turned, she half-crawls, half-tumbles her way over to Klaus, scraping every last ounce of energy in her body. "Klaus," she mutters. "Stay with me, stay with me..." She closes her hands around the stake, clenches her teeth and pulls it out. It's harder than she thought, the thing is buried deep in his heart. She nearly falls back when it comes out. "Klaus?" she says, shaking him a little. "Klaus, wake up. Come on, please... Please, wake up," she begs in a small voice, her hand trembling as it hovers above the wound on his chest.

In some distant corner, Caroline registers the sounds of fighting going on outside, but she's way too concentrated on Klaus to pay any more attention, and her senses are seriously impaired from the blood loss. She doesn't notice Mikael has returned until he's barking at her.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

She whips around like a thunder, pushing herself up and doing her best to ignore the tremor in her legs. She can feel the little blood she has going up to her head too fast, making her dizzy, but Caroline remains steadfast, her face set to determination as she points the white oak at him. Mikael is covered in blood, even more so than before. Whoever was outside... He's done some damage. She realizes it must've been Davina and that friend of hers. It makes sense. Caroline feels a tightness in her chest at the thought, but that's all she can spare for the little witch right now. Klaus and her own survival are taking up everything she's got.

"Stay the hell away from us," she bites out, her voice unwavering despite her weakness, as is her grip on the stake. "I'll kill you myself."

Mikael scoffs. "You have a warrior's heart. Perhaps I'll keep it as a souvenir."

Caroline braces herself for a fight she obviously cannot win, trying to focus all of her strength into her arms. If she can get _one_ attempt to pierce him with the stake, then she might make it. But if he smacks her down first... Then she's as good as gone. Before Mikael can launch at her, though, someone else jumps in, striking him with several punches, one after the other. _Marcel_. He's so fast Mikael barely has any time to react - but the surprise factor only lasts so long.

As soon as Mikael recovers, all it takes is one move, a push, for the younger vampire to fall on his back. Mikael grabs a piece of wood from the ground and points it at Marcel's heart.

"Enough!" the Original father snarls, his nostrils flaring in irritation. "This night has been a long parade of fools. I'll enjoy killing every last one of you."

 _Shit_ , Caroline thinks as she fixes her grip around the stake, drawing the air in through her nose. This is it. She'll have to jump him or he'll kill Marcel. That's when she hears Klaus taking a sharp gulp of air behind her. His revival seems to distract Mikael as well, because next thing Caroline knows, someone's wrapped a rusty iron chain around his neck and pulled him back, getting him away from Marcel.

"Yeah, I wouldn't bet on it."

 _Josh_. Freaking Josh. The smile that breaks onto Caroline's lips is so big her face feels like it might split in two.

While the Destroyer writhes on the ground, trying to free himself from the chains, Marcel stands up, and Josh comes to check on him. And then Caroline feels Klaus right behind her, one of his hands brushing against the small of her back as he exchanges a brief look with her. He's awfully pale, highlighting the deep shadows under his eyes, but they come alight with steely determination as he locks them onto hers. A million things pass between them - warmth, a dash of worry, gratefulness and, above all, relief.

He puts his palm out to her and Caroline gives him the white oak stake, her skin whiter than snow from how strongly she'd been holding on to it. Mikael would've had to break every bone on her hand to take it away from her, but she’s glad to leave it to more capable hands.

"It's over, Mikael," Klaus says, stepping in front of her. His voice sounds raspy and far less commanding than it normally is, but it sends a jolt of energy coursing through Caroline nonetheless. "You're outnumbered. Are you going to beg for your miserable life?"

Mikael laughs as he finally manages to pick himself up. "You think having _people_ makes you strong? It proves how weak you are. Your uselessness almost cost you your life today, _boy_. And it'll cost you again. Come find me when you don't have fools, women and children fighting your battles."

In a second, Mikael has flashed out of the warehouse. Caroline shuts her eyes, feeling as a gigantic weight lifts off her chest and a sharp breath that had been firmly lodged in her lungs finally comes out.

Mikael can tell himself whatever he wants, but the truth is that they just ran him out of there.

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Kol scrunches up his nose against the throbbing pain on his head. He's going to need an entire bottle of aspirins to sleep tonight. Being human has many inconveniences, but none more unpleasant than how easy it is to throw him about as though he were a stick in a storm. This has got to stop.

Mikael lifted him off his feet with a single hand, sent him flying across the warehouse and he was pretty much done for. So much for wanting to protect the little witch. Davina ended up with a nasty bite on her neck and Kol is pretty certain the only reason Mikael spared her was because he was slightly more concerned with finishing Niklaus. He's lucky his girl is resilient and thinks fast even with barely any blood at all in her system; she saved his wretched life.

Kol didn't stay for the celebrations, though. He wants to be far away when Nik is done fussing over his girl. He'll be the first on his brother's pay-back radar, for sure. Davina lagged behind, though, in need of some vamp blood to heal the ugly wound on her neck. Marcel's lackey, Josh, is taking care of it. Kol refuses to steep so low as to request blood from the riff raff, but he wants to make sure Davina will be alright.

That girl is gonna be the end of his perfectly engineered post-resurrection plan, he can already tell.

"Are you ok?"

He opens his eyes to see her approaching him, an unexpected line of concern between her eyebrows. Her shirt is soaked in red, but her neck looks as clean and smooth as ever. Kol relaxes back against the hood of his car.

"A bit lightheaded," he says, blinking slowly. "Might have something to do with being knocked arse over teacup by dear old dad."

She stops in front of him, so close Kol can see the halo of green around her irises. She reaches out, touching the spot on his forehead where he got the worst of the crash; Kol winces, whether because of the pain or the electricity from her touch, he cannot say.

"I'll be alright, love," he says, hazarding a smirk. "Everyone inside unscathed?"

She nods, rolling her eyes. "Marcel is mad at me. I'll never hear the end of this."

"Well. I think we should get out of here. Trust me, Marcel is the least of your problems. My brother is not the forgiving kind."

"Caroline wouldn't let him do anything to us."

Kol scoffs. "No offense, but I think I know Nik a little better than you. Even if we did save his sorry arse back there, his hatred for betrayal far outweighs any sense of gratitude he might have. Not even that girl will be able to stop him when he comes out swinging."

"I'm not afraid of him." Davina takes a furtive glance around and then shows Kol what she had hidden inside her jacket: the white oak stake. Somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, she managed to get her hands on it.

Oh, when Nik finds out...

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, darling?"

Davina juts her chin forward with a confidence that is far greater than her wee size or her young age. "I'm out to get even with Klaus. And you're gonna help me."

Kol arches his eyebrows at her, genuinely amused. "Oh?"

"Yes. But first... You're right. Let's get out of here before Marcel comes find me." She puts her hand out to him, a cheeky smirk gracing her beautiful features that rattles something inside of Kol. "I'll drive."

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Caroline winces when Klaus' fingers graze the wounds on her neck. He bites back on a grunt, choosing instead to soothe her with a gentle caress on her shoulder, where his hand is holding her in place.

She's been wobbling on her feet, a languishing posture even after she leaned back on a wall for support, like she's about to tumble sideward at any moment. Every few seconds or so Caroline closes her eyes, trying to steady herself. She's got barely any blood left in her system; it's a wonder she managed to stand up to Mikael the way she did. But her outstanding efforts are now taking a toll on her.

"You need to feed," he states the obvious, pulling back on his jacket sleeves and baring his wrist for her. "Here."

Caroline turns her face away, her brow bunching as she puts his arm down. "I'm not feeding on you."

"Well, unfortunately you seem to be barely able to hold yourself up and I'm the only meal currently available."

She treats him to a disapproving glare, pursing her lips. Klaus grins warmly, despite their less than favorable situation. Caroline's resilience is remarkable. That she can resist a pulsing vein at all right now is astounding; she's probably famished, her instincts must be screaming at her to hunt, feed, _survive_. Still she hesitates, unwilling to unleash her hunger upon him. Klaus wants to capture that annoyed flick of her lips between his own and make her all right again, worship her as she deserves, her spirit, her strength... And then maybe scold her for being so bloody brave all the time.

"Sweetheart -" he starts again, but she cuts him off with a pointed glare.

"You don't look so good yourself." Her eyes then slide down to the bloodied mess on his chest, the spot where the white oak stake went in and pierced his heart. Caroline lifts a pale hand, touching it gently as though she cannot believe it's really healed. Truth be told, he hardly believes it himself. Superficially, the wound is gone, his skin as firm and smooth as ever, but he can still feel it, a phantom sensation scratching against his heart, making his pulse skip and his breath catch just that tiny bit at the memory of what was supposed to be certain death.

It wasn't, thanks to an impromptu interruption by Davina Claire and Caroline's quick thinking.

"You pulled the stake out in the nick of time. A moment longer and I would've been done for," he says in an attempt to comfort her, covering her hand with his own. The creases on her forehead don’t go away, though.

Caroline's eyes sparkle with emotion as she straightens up, still swaying on her feet. She leans into him for support, and finds herself immediately welcomed into an embrace. Caroline wraps her arms around his waist, burying her face in his neck and letting out a shuddery breath. "You have _got_ to stop doing that," she mutters.

Klaus doesn't want to smile, he hates to see her so distraught, but he cannot help the satisfaction tugging at his lips. It's not that he does it on purpose - he'd most definitely rather avoid having white oak stakes driven through his chest - but he's still a tad mystified at seeing Caroline's feelings for him manifested so unbridled. It's still, to this day, a revelation.

"Trust me, love, I did not mean to.” He tilts his head to the side, exposing the line of his neck. Caroline pushes away lightly, ready to fire a protest. "Just do it, Caroline. Go on. Sink your teeth there or the punctures on your neck won't heal. I’ll stop you if I think you’ve gone too far."

Caroline sulks, reluctant, but some of the struggle bleeds out of her when her eyes slide down to the pulsating carotid he knows is calling out to her right now. Her throat moves slowly, her fingers nudging into him harder. When she parts her lips, her eyes finally change, but still she casts him a nervous glance. Klaus merely grins, one of his hands settling on the small of her back. Her restraint is truly commendable for such an inexperienced vampire. He always knew Caroline would own her monster faster than anyone he's ever met - certainly much faster than himself and his siblings - but this surpasses any expectations. It's been no more than six months. She is a wonder, his Caroline, in every sense of the way.

He expected her bite to be voracious, but it's gentle, instead, causing him more pleasure than pain. The line has always been rather slim for Klaus, anyway. The way her lips move against his skin, how her tongue brushes ever so gently as she drinks from his blood, how she presses herself flush against his body, causes a swell of arousal. One of his hands slide up her back, his fingers wounding around her curls. Klaus takes a sharp intake of air, biting back on what would likely be a sinful moan. He doesn't want to ruin her moment.

Almost as soon as it begins, though, it ends. Caroline has just the absolute necessary for her to recover some of the tint on her face, and then pulls away, licking her lips.

"You can have more," he says with a hopeful hint. " It won't hurt me."

"I'm ok." Caroline pauses, catching a drop of blood from his neck with the tip of her thumb and licking it off. The glimmer in her eyes tells him she might not have felt that different from him, after all. "Even your blood doesn't taste stale and weird like the rest of us commoners," she remarks.

Klaus offers her a brittle smile. "You heard Mikael. I'm an anomalous beast."

"No." Klaus blinks at the sudden steely edge of her tone. "Don't say that. Don't ever repeat anything that monster has ever said about you."

Klaus cups her face with a hand, brushing her cheek with his thumb, marveling at the affection brimming through her eyes. It’s an earnest, unadulterated feeling he dare not name for fear it might jinx it. How can she care about him this much? How could a creature like her, so lovely and full of light, ever love something rotten and twisted by darkness such as him? What did he ever do to deserve that look? It breaks him to have her; it kills him to think he might lose her.

"You know…” he speaks after a moment. “In a thousand years, I think that was the first time I've ever seen him run."

"And he's really gone," comes Joshua's inconvenient remark. Caroline straightens up, stepping away from him, a mask of professionalism sliding into place.

Klaus blows out a disgruntled breath at the interruption, but turns around to face - well, his savior with as much gratitude as he can muster. Today he cannot complain about Josh or Marcel. He kind of owes them - as well as Caroline, Davina and even bloody Kol - his life.

"We checked the perimeter," Marcel adds. "He's definitely not lurking around."

He nods at the two of them. "I appreciate your assistance."

"Hey. You die, we die. Just call us selfish," Josh says with a shrug. Caroline smiles at him. She's always been rather fond of Joshua's self-deprecating sense of humor and snarky remarks. Klaus never really understood, though he has to say the boy has personality - even if a rather dull, prone-to-hysterics one. He supposes he can say he finally understands _some_ of what she sees in him. There are redeeming qualities to be salvaged there. He's brave, Klaus will give him that. Normally, when Mikael, the Destroyer, gets name dropped, vampires scurry in the opposite direction, not towards him.

“Davina?” Caroline asks.

“She’s fine. She’s outside with Kaleb,” Josh replies.

 _Kaleb_ , Klaus thinks, holding back on a snort, considering whether now would be a good time to reveal the rascal’s true identity.

"Yeah, well. We have another problem now," Marcel continues before he has a chance, his expression grave all of a sudden. "Still no sign of Elijah."

Caroline tenses next to him, the ridges on her forehead deepening with concern. "What?" she asks, turning to face him. "Elijah's missing?"

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"No more..." Elijah begs, shaking his head helplessly. "Please..."

Every new memory his mother unearths is like a punch to his brain. His entire being has been mangled by hurt and guilt thousands of years in the making, and he can't take any more of this torture. He is empty. Dead. Crushed by the weight of his own lies. There’s nothing more left.

"I'm afraid we've just begun," his mother speaks without a hint of warmth, completely unaffected by her own son's suffering. "You will hang here, remembering. Every atrocity you've hidden behind that door will emerge to haunt you. And as you grow weaker, you will be ripped of your strength, your will, your hope. As you rot here alone, you will reconsider my offer. A new life. A way to be freed of your demons, a chance at pea -"

Esther gasps, her voice trailing off into a painful cry. Elijah lifts his head in time to see the light go out of her eyes, and then her body dropping limply to the ground. Caroline scrubs a hand across her red-smeared mouth, a triumphant smile brightening up her face when their eyes meet.

"Well," she says, approaching him. "That's about enough of that crap."

Elijah blinks, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as he tries to let it sink that Caroline has really come to his rescue. He breathes out in relief, letting it wash through him. He's never felt more tired in his entire life, but the mere sight of her is enough to spark a flicker of hope inside of him.

She pulls on the chains holding him, then pulls again, more strongly. It doesn't budge.

"How do I get these off?" she asks.

"The doll. There." He nods his head towards the voodoo puppet hanging from the ceiling. "You have to break it."

Caroline does as she's instructed, and when she goes for the chains again, they give easily. Elijah sinks to the floor with an exhale that's half a grunt, his arms aching terribly.

"Hey." Caroline crouches down in front of him, hands around his waist to hold him up. "You need to feed."

He shakes his head vehemently. "No. Let's just get out of here."

"Elijah," she speaks, her voice so soft it soothes him, connecting to a cord deep in his chest. He dares to lift his eyes to hers, blue cobalt glinting with concern and affection. "You're weak. If you don't feed, we won't go very far. There are werewolves out there."

Elijah's heart lurches traitorously, his monster raging inside of him. His entire world contracts to her - her warmth, her closeness, that flush on her cheeks, the delicious scent of her... Desire strikes him like a kick to his guts. He closes his eyes against the hot _want_ that licks through him, desperately trying to will the feeling away.

"I can't," he breathes out, turning his face away. "I crave you, Caroline. My hunger... It could overwhelm me."

She cups his face gently, pulling him back. Elijah hates himself so much in that moment, so, so much... He thought he was over this - over _her_ . At least the very worst of it should be gone. He tries to remind himself that this is the woman his brother is madly in love with, the woman who had his child, who shares his bed most nights now. But the way she's looking at him... So open, so _honest_... The tendrils of those old feelings unfurl alive again inside of him, awakening the very worst of Elijah's selfishness.

"I'm not afraid," she whispers. "I trust you, Elijah. I always have."

The kiss is almost too much for him to bear. An explosion of sensations and emotions he'd long locked up in an unattended corner of his mind. It’s everything Elijah dreamt it would be - and more. He tries to resist it - he really, _really_ does, with every ounce of strength left in him -, tries to keep Niklaus at the forefront of his mind, but his brother quickly dissolves into a footnote with Caroline's hands sliding up his hair and her deft tongue trying to break into his mouth. It's just too distracting. Elijah simply yields under her ministrations, allows her to deepen the kiss and then seizes control of it.

He pulls her flush against his body, relishing the feeling of her curves molded against him. Heat travels through him in waves, growing and growing as she writhes gently in his arms.

Caroline growls into his mouth, a sinful sound that thrums through him like power. She breaks away for air, peppering kisses along his jawline, and then tilts her head to the side, pulling her hair out of the way. She gives him a look under her lashes that is pure lust, and Elijah cannot fight it - his monster coming alive inside of him, an all-consuming hunger that burns through him like wildfire. He sinks his teeth into her neck, delighting in the sound of Caroline's moan as his hand gives in to the temptation and slides under the hem of her shirt to meet the smooth of her skin.

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Finn waves a hand in front of his brother's face, snaps his fingers, but Elijah doesn't even blink. His eyes are wide open, his mouth moving wordlessly, but he neither sees nor speaks, hanging limply from his chains.

"What did you do to him?" he asks, turning around to face his mother. Esther calmly sips from her chamomile tea, casting a quick glance towards Elijah. It's almost like she can't bear to look. So soft, his poor mother... Trying her best to save her children, offering them a helping hand that the ungrateful bastards don't even deserve after everything they've done to her, and still it hurts her heart to cause them pain.

"I let him dream."

"That's... Considerate of you," Finn offers. Honestly, the way Elijah looks, he thought he was going through some kind of mental torture. A dream is not so bad.

"I cannot lead him out of darkness by simply exposing him to the horrors of his past. I have to let him bask in his own version of a better world to come."

"And what would that be?"

Esther sighs. "That girl, of course. What else?"

"Caroline?" Finn frowns, huffing out an amused breath. "Mother... You're going to cause some dissent there. I thought you were using her to lure Niklaus."

"Niklaus will be far more difficult to break. I have other plans for him. Elijah aches for simpler things, a simpler life. He once thought the doppelganger Tatia was in love with Niklaus as well, and she wasn't. It's no matter. For now... Let Elijah dream of what he could have, if he only allows himself to see the light. And by the time he wakes, he will know that the only way to find peace and have everything his heart desires... Is my way."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm anticipating some comments I might get about Elijah here saying that he's a blueberry muffin that does nothing wrong. 🙄🙄 Have mercy on him. But also, I kind of had fun writing that scene? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. S02E06 Wheel Inside the Wheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had some last minute rewritings, so I apologize for the likely many mistakes you will find. Nothing here has been beta'ed.

* * *

Caroline remembers a time when she used to wake up to birds chirping and trees rustling in her backyard. There was such peace in those sounds, such innocence. Now she wakes up to blood staining the air and desperate, painful screams knifing through her sleep.

Nothing like a good torture session to start the day.

Caroline closes her eyes, soaking up under the sun on her balcony and doing the best to tune out Klaus' _interrogation_. She has already embraced the fact these witches don't deserve to be showered with kindness, but even as she becomes more comfortable with the darker aspects of her transformation, she still finds herself questioning the ethics of straight-out torture. It's like having these two sides of her fighting over dominance over her moral compass - the side that holds very strong grudges against New Orleans' covens, and the side that is way too human to be completely on board with Klaus' methods.

For now, she's decided not to interfere. She may be ideologically against torture, but Elijah has gone missing and the witches were not about to start talking willingly. It's been over 24 hours and not a soul in the city has seen him. Klaus' theory that Esther is behind this seems very likely, which only makes Caroline all the more anxious. Last time Esther was behind one of them getting kidnapped, she ended up dead and her daughter nearly sacrificed to appease her grandmother's sick whims.

Klaus thinks his mother doesn't want them dead. Caroline finds very little reassurance in that. If Esther is holding Elijah captive and doesn't intend to kill him, she's afraid to think of what else she might want. It gives Caroline goosebumps. Death might be a mercy in the hands of that lunatic.

Honestly, she doesn't think she could've found herself a worst pair of in-laws if she tried. And she used to think Carol Lockwood - murdered by her current beau, may she rest in peace - was bad.

Caroline's dead worried about Elijah. They weren't exactly in a good place, but he's done more than enough to earn her loyalty, even when she's pissed at him. If it was up to her, they would've sent out search parties the second they were back from the mess in Terrebonne Parish. Klaus put a stop to her drive, though, claiming they both needed to rest and recover from their very, _very_ near death experiences. She stomped her foot and tried to argue, but even as she did, she knew he was right. Despite having fed on him, being left with so little blood in her system still made her feel a little airy, her thoughts not entirely clear. Nothing a good blood bag or two - or five - couldn't sort out, but Klaus was... Well, he fakes well, but the unusual shadows under his eyes made it obvious that taking white oak to the heart had kind of taken a toll on him. Caroline was more worried for him than she was for herself, in all truth, but in at least one thing he was completely right: they were in no conditions to face Esther.

She accepted defeat under the condition that Klaus wouldn't be sneaking out in the middle of the night to go rescue his brother all on his own. Caroline didn't put much faith in his reluctant compromise, so she wrapped herself around him when they went to sleep. Partly so she would wake up if he tried to leave, and partly because she was still shaken to her freaking core from thinking for an excruciatingly long minute that he was gone. In the end, the lulling sound of his heartbeats and the unnatural exhaustion seeped into her bones made her fall into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Of course all her safety measures were worth shit and, by the time she woke up, Klaus was long gone, had already been out, kidnapped a couple of witches from the Cauldron and his _questioning_ was well under way. Talk about efficiency.

Annoyance aside, if what Caroline has to do in order for them to find Elijah is sit back and let Klaus have fun with knives, then so be it. She's longed cut the cord to any sense of comradery she might've ever felt towards the witches. They're the ones who turned her into a monster, after all.

Not that anyone has shown an interest, but Elijah is not the only one who went missing that night. Oliver is nowhere to be found either, and the two of them were supposed to be together. Whoever took one, probably took the other. Caroline cannot understand why Esther would want to take Oliver hostage, though. Sure, she was probably pissed off that he betrayed her, but... Why take him alive? Why not leave him dead behind with the other wolves? Not that Caroline wanted him dead - not right now, anyway - but... It's just odd. Makes the whole thing all the more mysterious. Something about it just doesn't rub her right.

She notices the sudden silence as though it's a new sound. A moment goes by, then another, and when she hears no more screaming, she realizes Klaus’ party must be over. He either got what he wanted or got carried away. She goes back inside and crosses the hall to his room.

He's covered in blood from head to toe - face, hair, neck, shirt, hands... Caroline stops, makes a face when the coppery tang of it hits her like a punch to the stomach. It's just... A lot.

"Well, that's not gonna cut it," she says when she finds himself cleaning his hands in a basin. "I think you're going to need a bit more water than that." He smirks, but says nothing. He's in a good mood, then. "Looks like your interrogation went well."

"Turns out witches are delicate creatures, who would've thought?" he remarks flatly. "No matter. I got what I needed. As suspected, my mother has taken Elijah captive."

"Great. Let's go find him, then."

"Esther is too powerful," Klaus speaks as he takes a towel to dry up his hands and face. "She won't be found unless she wants to. Not even her little adoring acolytes know exactly where to find her. I need to draw her out. If you'll excuse me."

He pulls on the pocket doors that separate the living area from the private part of his bedroom, ready to shut them on Caroline's face. She takes a step forward, hands out. "Woah, there. Where are you going?"

"I am going to get cleaned up and change my clothes."

"And you have to shut me out for that? What, are you shy now all of a sudden?"

"No, but you're quite distracting, love, and I have something of utmost urgency to take care of."

"Oh, get over yourself, Klaus," she snaps. "You're not that irresistible, buddy.”

Klaus cocks his head, the corner of his lips kicking upwards into a cheeky grin. “Well -”

“Shut up. I want to find Elijah just as much as you do. Let me come with you."

He sighs, looking serious again. "I know you want to help Elijah, Caroline, but you can't. My mother is wretched - don't make that face, you know exactly what I mean. She is _just_ as bad as Mikael, and perhaps more devious. We saw what your encounter with my father went like."

"I was _worried_ about you," she counters, a bite of indignation in her tone. "Do you think I wanted to get kidnapped? I didn't go there to face Mikael or because I ever thought I could, I went there to get you out of -"

"I know," he cuts her off, putting his hands out in a pacifying gesture. "I'm not blaming or chiding you. I am merely being objective. We don't know what Esther aims by this. It might very well be a trap, and in order to thwart me, she _will_ target you. I can't save Elijah if I have to save you, now can I?"

Caroline tuts in annoyance, planting both her fists on her hips. "So, what? I just sit here and wait?"

Klaus shrugs. "You have your werewolf guests to entertain, don't you? See to that."

She's unable to conjure a response even remotely appropriate to the level of dismissiveness on his tone as he - that _dick_ \- pulls the door shut on her face. Caroline presses her lips into a tight, angry line, her nails digging into the palm of her hands while she contemplates breaking down his stupid pocket doors just for the sake of it.

And then... An idea occurs to her. Klaus doesn't want her to go after Elijah and face his mother. Fair enough, she won't. See to her werewolves, right? That's what she's going to do.

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Marcel sighs while he pours himself his third glass of bourbon this morning. Not even noon yet and already he wants to be drunk. Damn those Mikaelsons... Not a single day of peace since that family came back to New Orleans.

If only he could _not_ worry about whatever mess they're getting themselves into. Now, more than ever, their problems are his problems, too, what with the white oak stake missing once again and Mikael and Esther competing for who gets to slay their children first. And Marcel's sirer just happens to top both of their lists. He should've had Rebekah turn him all those years ago...

"I did like you said," Gia starts as she breezes in, her voice pitched high as she gesticulates. She's in a mood, too. Has been since they came back from their children rescue mission to find that Elijah was nowhere to be found. Even before Marcel had officially conceded that something was off, her nerves were already jangled. Almost as though she could feel it. It's amazing, but it seems like she might've actually gotten to know Elijah in the space of a couple of weeks better than Marcel did in 200 years. That, or that woman just has a cunning sixth sense from hell. "Kept a low profile, went all over the city. There's no sign of Elijah. No one's seen him anywhere. It's like he just vanished."

Marcel shakes his head, knocking back his drink. He and Elijah aren't the best of pals, but in the current state of affairs, a reluctant ally is still better than a straight-out enemy. Besides... Anything that is good for Esther and Finn Mikaelson cannot be good for the rest of them. "The human I know said the same thing. Not a trace. They must've cloaked him. Maybe Klaus is having better luck."

"He is not." Confusion creases Marcel's face when Caroline saunters in. Now this is... Something. "Which sucks, considering how low the bar is around here."

Marcel notices Gia tensing up next to him, wringing her hands and giving their new guest a good once over. The story of the witch mother-turned half hybrid who lost her miracle baby the night the Guerreras took over, and who then took to witch-hunting in the Cauldron, flanked by two murderous Originals who worship the ground she walks on is everyone's favorite gossip theme in the supernatural community of New Orleans. Caroline's developed a reputation all of her own. Gia had heard _of_ her, but not in details, not until Marcel told her the whole story. He could tell she was... Moved. Whether because it's a hell of a tragic story or because of the nature of her _concern_ for Elijah, Marcel couldn't tell. Taking from the way she eyes Caroline like she's the one to beat... He can make an educated guess.

"I thought you'd be with him," Marcel says when the silence lingers for longer than it would be comfortable.

"So did I, but he ditched me," she replies with a bitter little smile. "Told me to go see to my werewolf friends, so... I have another mission. You two up for a rescue?"

"Are we going after Elijah?" Gia asks, her interest suddenly piqued.

"No. That's all Klaus. I'm talking about Oliver. He was with Elijah when they were fighting the werewolves, right? I got word from the wolf grapevine that he was captured as well and they're holding him at the City of the Dead. He's to be executed by Esther's witches at midnight. If we can get Oliver back, he might know where Elijah is."

Marcel exchanges a look with Gia, knows that she's thinking exactly the same thing he is. _Oliver_. That little man has caused them nothing but trouble. Not exactly deserving of their sacrifice. But he did put his ass on the line for those kids and, for whatever reason, Caroline seems to bother about him.

"What do you want from us?" he asks, not exactly showing a lot of enthusiasm.

"Just a little distraction. Klaus' brother, Finn, he's the one that's been controlling the wolves. If you can keep him out of the way, I can go to the cemetery and get Ollie myself. Do we have a plan, then? Great!"

Caroline claps her hands together once and, not even waiting to hear a formal answer, swivels around and starts marching out of his loft. Marcel flashes forward, planting himself on her path. "You can't take on all those werewolves by yourself," he says. "You'll get killed, and then _I'll_ get killed for letting it happen."

"I'm not stupid, Marcel. I don't plan on going alone. The werewolves may be answering to the witches at the present moment, but they still have an alpha. I just... Need to figure out where he is. So, while I do that, you can figure out how to get Finn out of the way."

He narrows his eyes at her, smiling. "You didn't tell Klaus about any of this, did you?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, pushing past him. "Klaus is not my lord and owner, Marcel, I do occasionally do things of my own free will. Besides, he gave me express orders not to go after his mother, and I won't. Plus... What Klaus doesn't know, can't hurt him." She winks at him as she waltzes her way out, like there is absolutely nothing wrong with that logic of hers.

Marcel can admire a fighting spirit, especially someone who's willing to put themselves in danger to help their friends. That's loyalty right there, and courage, things that he has learned the hard way cannot be bought. Right now, though, he's wondering if Oliver is worth having his ass handed to him by Klaus - _again_ \- when Caroline ends up getting hurt at that rescue mission.

"Yeah," he calls out to her as she disappears down his building's halls. "But it might hurt _me_ when he does find out."

 _Goddamn Mikaelsons_ , he thinks. Even the honorary ones live to be a pain in his ass.

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There is a reason why Klaus spent a thousand years carrying most of his family around in boxes everywhere he went. It's so the ones he likes wouldn't end up endangered, in need of saving, and the ones he didn't wouldn't return from the dead at their own convenience to torment him. Mikaelsons that go in the ground always find a way back. Not even hell wants to take them for long.

For a thousand years, neither Finn nor Esther represented any danger to him. A millennium of - well, not exactly bliss, but with one less thing to add to the already monumental pain he has walked hand in hand with for most of his sodden existence on this earth. The second he allowed other people to get their hands on his mother's coffin was the moment his life went completely off-rail. First in Mystic Falls, when the Salvatore buffoons stole his family from him, and then when Elijah had the brilliant idea to consecrate her in New Orleans soil. In hindsight, he should've realized it would come back to haunt them. No good deed ever goes unpunished, precisely why Klaus is so averse to them.

"Are you watching this, mother?" he yells at nothing, throwing his shovel aside once he’s done digging up Esther’s body from the ground. "Nothing says I loathe you quite like desecrating a corpse." He takes the gallon of gas he brought with him and showers her coffin with fuel, waiting for Esther to come out of the hell hole she's been hiding in. For a witch, desecration is the second worst thing that can happen - only after being turned into a vampire, as Caroline can attest. It's the ultimate form of disrespect. Though he'd argue that getting murdered - more than once - by her own children should be a _tad_ little more hurtful. Or so he hopes, anyway.

"Niklaus."

He whips around at the sound of his brother's voice and sees Elijah standing before the wreckage of what once was the plantation house they lived in for a while when they'd just arrived in New Orleans. Klaus blinks, half expecting Elijah to be a figment of his imagination, but his brother looks real enough - flesh and bone and immaculate suit. He turns on his heels and walks into the scorched house. Reluctantly, Klaus puts down the lighter he was ready to throw on his mother's mahogany casket and follows.

Elijah is playing with what is left of his beloved piano, keys making odd, screeching noises as he presses them. "You seem troubled," his brother muses. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were worried."

Klaus looks him up and down. Not a single sign of struggle - not a blood speck, not a wrinkle on his jacket, or even a hair out of place. Too neat for someone who just spent over a day in their mother's hands.

"What has she done to you?" he asks.

"A thousand years of murder, mayhem and mother believes she can still save our souls. She wants to talk. Perhaps we should listen."

Klaus sighs wearily, putting his head down. "Enough!" He picks up a piece of charred wood from the ground and throws it at Elijah. Instead of bleeding from a mortal injury, his brother simply vanishes. " _Enough_ with the petty illusions, Esther," he hisses, knowing the Original witch cannot be far. "Where is Elijah?"

"He's preoccupied at the moment," she speaks, finally revealing herself. "I'm helping him find his way. But not to worry, I will return him to you. All I ask is that you hear me out."

"You expect me to sit through a sermon of your lies? Willingly? Do you not know me at all, woman?"

"I have lied to you in the past, Niklaus, to my shame, but I'm going to tell you the truth. I'm in the process of making Elijah into the man he was meant to be through nothing but revealing to him all the truth that's been hiding just at the edge of his memories for a thousand years. I intend to do the same for you." She pauses, looking around what was once a magnificent hall. "This house, ruined by fire... How symbolic. After all, you never intended to build a true home here. Not even as Caroline carried your child, as Rebekah and Elijah sought to defend you, your thoughts were focused on the conquest of the Quarter. Tell me... How did that go?"

Klaus laughs. "I'm sorry, is this some sort of motherly critique? Please, feel free to choke on it."

"I mention your failures only to make a point, my dear. You've endured several lifetimes of misery, never mind the suffering you've caused others, even to your own blood. You yourself remain trapped in a perpetual state of despair. I have come to offer you a means to escape that cycle."

"And that's about all the hypocrisy I can take. I suggest you give me my brother, before I get angry."

"Such hatred..." Esther shakes her head pitifully at him. Klaus feels a jab of irritation, his temper quickly fraying. "You know, when I first became aware of what was taking place right here, in New Orleans, I was worried. But then I realized this whole thing hadn't been just an unfortunate mistake. You actually did have feelings for that girl. I thought it would be your chance, that perhaps it would be the thing that finally made you see the error of your ways, transform you back into the sweet, loving boy I once knew. But not even the love of a woman and the miracle of fatherhood were enough to mend your brokenness. You are too far gone, son."

Klaus storms over to her face, rage thrumming across his veins like lava. It takes every ounce of self-control in his body not to snap her neck right there and then. "You do not _speak_ of Caroline, unless you want me to make you suffer a horrible death that will echo into your next body. You killed her. You caused the loss of our child. It's all your fault."

"I never meant for her to die, if you can believe me," Esther says, something akin to regret in her eyes. It just makes Klaus want to gouge them out with his hands. "It was Genevieve's thirst for revenge against you what caused all that mess. And now... It breaks my heart to see you like this, so mangled, the boy I loved so much."

"Your love was a curse, an affect you feigned, just as you feign remorse over Caroline's fate. The truth is, you're no better than Mikael. And like him, you seem to have crawled back from the grave simply to ruin your own children’s further." Esther's eyes widen just a bit, a shadow crossing her expression. Klaus' lips tug upwards, a self-satisfied grin dancing just at the edge of the angry lines on his expression. "Oh... Hadn't you heard? Yes. The Destroyer has risen, brought back to kill me by the witch Davina. Surely Kol has revealed everything to you… Or is mother's loyal, little boot-licker not so loyal after all?"

Esther recovers fast from her surprise, wiping it off her impassive, ice-queen features with a dismissive wave of her hand. "If Mikael has returned, we will need to deal with him."

Klaus lets out a sardonic bark of laughter. " _We_? Is that a joke? Am I to forego centuries of hatred for my evil mother in order to join her in besting the very demon she herself allowed to raise me?"

"I am not evil, Niklaus," she retorts, for the first time expressing some real heat. "I am your salvation. And Mikael... He was not always a demon. He once loved his children very much. Our first daughter, Freya... She was the apple of his eye."

"Please," he growls. "Do you really think that saccharine recollections of ancient history will have any effect on me at all?"

"What I think is that you have gone mad from centuries of hating your parents."

"See, _mother_ , that is exactly your problem. You seem to have this misguided belief that the problem lies in us, rather than in yourself and your husband. What drove us mad is centuries of being hated and persecuted by our parents, not the other way around."

Esther simply ignores him. "If you join me now, I can grant you peace. And should Mikael return with the intent to harm you, I will strike him down myself."

"My mother, the protector. That's quite an offer, but, you know... I've never needed any help when it comes to killing my parents. I think I can handle."

Esther takes a step towards him, her haughty stance unchanged. "You reject me out of hatred, but I have something stronger. I have the truth about your father - not Mikael." She pauses, an ugly smile cracking onto her face. "Your real father."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Finding Jackson had seemed like a brilliant idea, the answer to almost all of their problems and a way to seize back control back over the wolves from the hands of the evil witches. Now, however, she's starting to think she should've given it a proper thought. The theory was sound, but the practice... Not so much.

It's been five months. Five months and no one's seen or heard of Jackson. Even if he's still in Louisiana, even if he's still alive... It's quite clear he does not want to be found.

She asked the Crescents currently staying at the compound, and they all said _many_ search parties have ventured into the deep Bayou after him and no one's been successful. If fully grown and trained wolves who know the area like the back of their hands couldn't figure out where Jackson is, then there's very little chance that a directionally challenged baby vampire with some underdeveloped werewolf skills will.

She's grasping at straws here, but Caroline has been putting her coins on luck. Or maybe Jackson will sense her coming and decide to show himself, after all. Although that might be thinking a bit too highly of herself. He hasn't come out to play with _anyone_ , why would he want to see her? She's not even a part of his pack, not even the mother of someone who's a part of his pack, as far as he knows, anyway. But they were good friends once, and she likes to think that counts for something. Or at least it did.

The biggest part of Caroline firmly believes that Jackson is alive somewhere, hiding under a rock or something, but there’s this tiny annoying part afraid to find out that the worst case scenario has been true all along. Honestly, she'd rather think he walked out on everything and everyone and never hear from him again than to find his dead body decomposing in the middle of the Bayou. She was obviously in no condition to help him at the time, but Jackson was someone she came to hold very dearly, someone she trusted almost blindly, and to think that he agonized to death from all the wounds Francesca and her butchers caused him, all alone... He was betrayed as well. Maybe the person who lost the most with last spring's events, after her and Klaus. So he didn't lose a child or, you know, was turned into a vampire, but he lost his pack, many of his friends, and all by the hands of the man who was a brother to him.

Oliver swore by everything holy and sacred that they did not kill Jackson, but she doesn't know how much she should believe him. She likes to think that despite all the obviously terrible things Ollie did, he wouldn't do _that_ , but the Caroline who put her faith on people's goodness got butchered at the altar of a church, so. She's somewhat of a skeptical nowadays, and if there's one thing her recently unveiled darker edge has taught her, is to always expect the worst of everyone - including herself.

She walks for over an hour trying to track wolf scents she picks up in the air like Klaus taught her. Twice she runs into Crescents' camps, the ones who disappeared into the deep Bayou, running from the witches and their converted brothers, but then the trail goes cold and she's left with nothing. After a while, Caroline comes to the realization she has no idea where she is anymore.

She curses under her breath, sagging in frustration. She's ready to turn around and run sort of in the same direction where she came from, hoping to eventually find the road again, when she notices something different. The trees around her - they seem... Trimmed. Some of the lower branches were cut very similarly. She takes a closer look at one and realizes there's some strange marking on the trunk - and then she spots the exact same mark on all the trees around her.

 _Holy crap_. Caroline gets a cool swell of anticipation in her guts. She's on to something here. It could just be another random group of wolves, but she hasn't seen any in ages and most of the camps she's found were closer to the river, never this far deep into the woods.

With a renewed surge of encouragement she follows the markings on the trees. When a light breeze blows, she catches something different in the air. It's faint, but it's definitely there. It doesn't smell like anything she knows, definitely not like the wolves' scents she'd been following so far. Alarm bells go chiming in her mind, and Caroline prowls slowly, keeping to the shadows of the larger trees sharpening her senses for any signs of danger.

After some more minutes of that, she finally spots a clearing further ahead, and a trailer. At first look, she can't see or hear anyone, it’s all very quiet, but there has to be someone living here - and it looks like it might a loner. Exactly like the one she's been chasing.

She takes a cautious step ahead, and then she hears it - deadwood crackling, followed by a _woosh_. Caroline whips around just in time to stop an arrow that was aimed at her head with a hand, followed closely by a second one, an inch away from hitting her in the forehead.

Well, not Jackson, then.

"Is that your best shot?" she barks out to whoever just tried to assassinate her. "You're gonna have to do a lot better if you're gonna kill a vampire. Just a heads up."

A man steps out of the cover of trees, a bow behind his back. He's clearly a werewolf, but she's never felt a scent like his before. Not a Crescent, for sure. And not a friend either. With cold eyes trained on her, he fishes out a hunting knife, ready for a fight as he strides purposefully in her direction.

Caroline's jaw sets as she takes on a fighting stance, ready to beat the crap out of the asshole, but then someone screams from behind her, " _Stop_!"

They both freeze, heads snapping around as Jackson - longer hair, too much beard, but Jackson Kenner in the flesh and flannel shirt - comes out of the bushes closer to the trailer camp.

She almost allows herself to relax before she remembers there's a guy ready to stick a knife into her right there. "Jackson," she says, her eyes darting between the two of them.

"Caroline," he nods. "I see you met my friend Ansel."

"You know her?" the guy, _Ansel_ , asks, putting his knife down.

"Yeah, actually, I do," Jackson says, eying her darkly. "She's a friend."

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Klaus clenches and unclenches his fists as Esther makes her way out of the ruins of the plantation house, obviously expecting him to follow. The only thing he can think of is how easy - how _rewarding_ \- it would be to dig his fingers into her neck and watch life peter out of her eyes. It's such a hardship to keep it at the forefront of his mind why exactly he needs to keep her alive - in this body, anyway.

_Elijah. He needs to find Elijah._

"A thousand years ago, in a fit of rage, you wrapped your bare hands around my neck and squeezed until I died," she says once she notices he's followed her outside, stopping close to where he left the coffin housing her original body. Klaus smiles to himself; it's almost as though she could hear his thoughts. Old habits die hard, it seems. "Do you remember why?"

He hums thoughtfully. "Let's see. You turned us all into monsters, you cursed me, denied me of my hybrid nature, you killed the woman I loved in order to perform your wretched spell, you lied about my father -"

"It's that one above all," Esther cuts him off, whipping around to look at him. "You killed me because I kept you from ever knowing your true father."

Klaus shrugs dismissively. "My hatred for you runs so deep it's difficult to pinpoint its origin. You've given me no shortage of reasons. Perhaps what I truly hate is that I'm the product of a whore's lechery."

Esther's hand flies so fast at his face he doesn't even see it coming. Lenore is small, but not without strength, it seems. Klaus' face whips around from her slap. "Watch your mouth," she spits out, anger flaring behind her eyes for the first time. "You would do well to remember that you are still my son."

Klaus lifts his hand to touch his cheek, stinging from her aggression. He cannot help the stab of satisfaction at getting a reaction out of that woman. She's held all the cards so far, but for once he's managed to hit a nerve. "You judge me evil, yet it was your lust that made me what I am."

"Not once have I ever regretted the love I had for your father," she retorts with a kind of pride. "And you have never learned the truth of how that love came to be, or what happened in the months after Mikael and I lost your sister Freya to the plague. There are no words for the loss of a child, as you well know."

Klaus shuffles forward, his temper once more provoked "I suggest you tread carefully when speaking of my child. I'm known to be rather mercurial."

Esther casts her eyes downwards, starts pacing calmly. "After Freya died, Mikael was inconsolable. Because of his grief, we were forced to pack our things and set across the seas. But that wasn't enough. Eventually, his despair drove us apart, and that's when I saw him for the first time... Your father." Esther's face seems to light up, her lips kicking upwards into a wistful smile.

Klaus' mouth draws tighter still, eyebrows slashing together. A thousand years of instincts keep him wary, tell him not to trust a thing she says, and yet... He finds himself drawn to her tale. She's never once spoken to him about his real father. Or much of anything else, for that matter. It's infuriating, really, how easily she captures his attention, his eagerness to hear more is juvenile, shameful, and still it cannot be helped.

"You know what that moment is like, don't you, son?" she asks, turning back to him with an unfamiliar softness. "The exact second you realize someone will change your life forever. I'd never seen a man like him before. Powerful, yet wise, and loved by his people. And because Mikael had chosen to leave me alone in his grief, shunning me from his life, I found myself drawn to another."

Klaus' teeth click in distaste at the familiar prick of feeling in his chest. He's always thought Esther incapable of knowing what true love is, but he knows exactly what she's referring to - which is precisely why he has to cut her out, lest they begin to _bond_ over their loved ones.

"Spare me the sordid details of my origin," he growls.

"I only speak the truth."

"Then tell me this, mother. Why did your Adonis abandon his son? Why would he allow me to be raised by a monster who showed me nothing but hatred? Why not claim me for himself, raise me among the wolves? Or was he as ashamed of his bastard as you were?" he asks, hating the needy edge of his own voice.

"No... He loved you. It was I who forbade it. I knew if Mikael learned of my infidelity, he would've destroyed us in his rage. Your father, me, even your siblings. I had no choice. When I learned I was with child, I went back to Mikael. I told him I was having his baby. He showed no joy, but neither did he suspect the truth. When you were born, this beautiful, strong baby boy, it renewed his spirits. We had Kol, Rebekah, Henrik... Because of you, Niklaus, we were a family again."

He lets out a bitter, dry sound that's a far cry from a laugh. "A family... Yes. What a family we were. Built on secrets and lies and resentment."

"Oh, you were my secret joy..." she says, such warmth in her voice it makes him sick. "And to protect that, I denied you a life with your father. But what if I could make up for all that by curing you of this sickness that's infected your soul? Whereas I put Kol and Finn into the bodies of a witch, you I shall place into the body of a werewolf, so you can live out your days as what you were always meant to be."

"What could possibly make you think I would agree to such a thing?"

"With mortality, you could start over. You could have a family of your own, happiness and peace, all the things you've long been denied. I extend my gift to Caroline, son, for your sake. So the two of you can -"

" _Enough_!" he slams, annoyance finally veering towards menace. "I'm done listening to your nonsense. Tell me where Elijah is, or I will kill you in this body or any other you choose to jump into from now until the bloody Armageddon."

Esther puts her hands forward and Klaus is sent flying in the air, crashing against a tree with a crushing pain on his ribs. "I hoped there was some part of you that yearned to put an end to your vicious ways," she grits out, softness all gone from her voice as she sheds her mask of dutiful mother to reveal her true, ugly face. "But if you are so determined to perpetuate the cycles of violence to which you have been accustomed, well, then. I'll have to accommodate you."

With a flick of her wrist, Klaus' head is violently twisted. He feels a _snap_ , and then is engulfed by darkness.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It's safe to say things are not exactly going as Caroline hoped they would. She wanted to beam and hug him and thank the Gods that he's all right, but the vibe is just not right.

Sure, she didn't expect to be welcomed with confetti and fanfare, but this is... Somehow disappointing in spite of her very low expectations.

Jackson invited her to sit around the fire with him and his new friend - _Ansel_ , no last names - but he's barely looked at her, keeps his eyes firmly trained on the crackling fire. He seems... Rough. And not in a good wilderness-and-fresh-air-are-good-for-your-skin kind of way. It's clear that these months underground haven't exactly done much in terms of bringing Jackson much joy. But he also doesn't really seem excited about seeing a familiar face.

She wonders if this Ansel man, whoever the hell he is, has had a bad influence on him. While Jackson caves in on himself, Ansel just _stares_ , like he's never seen a female before in his life. He scrutinizes her with those weirdly too-sharp eyes of his like she's this big novelty he's trying to figure out. It's not vulgar or lewd, which only makes it stranger. She's used to being ogled by creepy old dudes - it's disgusting, but it's a recognizable behavior. She has no idea what this guy is trying to get from her. And the weirdest part of all is that... There's something vaguely familiar about him. She gets this annoying little _tug_ in her mind, begging her to make the connection, and yet the trace is so faint she just can't tell. Maybe she's seen him before, lurking around the Crescents' camp.

Well, he's irritating, that's what he is. But she figures that antagonizing Jackson's new friends is not gonna get her many points here. Besides, at least he doesn't look like he wants to kill her anymore. Progress or whatever.

"After Francesca Guerrera took over the wolves, she offered me a moonlight ring, as long as I'd call her alpha. I declined," Jackson tells her, recounting what he's been up to since going MIA. "So a couple of her brothers dragged me out here and left me for dead. By the time I healed up, word had spread about what happened to you and to your baby." He pauses, swallowing as a shadow flickers across his expression. "So I knew it was over. I just drifted. And that's when I met Ansel."

Jackson nods at his friend and Caroline follows with her gaze, finds him, not surprisingly, still staring intently at her. "He's been teaching me the old ways," Jackson continues, showing a tinge of enthusiasm for the first time since she got here. "The traditions, what it means to be a wolf."

"You mean, by living out in the ass end of nowhere?" she counters, glaring at Ansel. The man remains just as impassive, but his blue eyes flash.

"Easy," Jackson says. "Your kind makes him ornery."

Caroline scoffs indignantly. "My _kind_? Jack, whatever you and your friend think of me, I'm still the same person."

"Killing sprees around the Cauldron?" he retorts, giving her a withering look. His voice remains perfectly even, but Caroline can hear all the dented edges of his disappointment. "Word travels. Even to the ass end of nowhere."

She scowls, getting immediately defensive. "You know very well what those witches did. I was one of them and they didn't bother showing me any kindness when they took my baby from me and slit my throat. I'm only showing them the same courtesy they showed me. It’s not my fault they chose to arm me with sharp teeth and a hunger from hell," she fires back, pinning him under a stern look. Jackson at least has the decency to seem awkward. Like anyone's got any right to judge her. "I took in some of the Crescents who didn't want to take moonlight rings but were too scared to turn them down. The witches are getting more demanding on their approach. Did you know they tried to trigger a bunch of kids the other day? Or don't you care anymore?"

"You know it's not that simple.”

"I know, Jackson, trust me. But sitting out here, doing nothing, is helping no one, least of all you. The werewolves might be answering to the witches now, but all they need is an alpha. All _I_ need is one, too."

He scoffs. "You mean Oliver? Heard about that, too. The thing is, Ollie betrayed me. He was my brother and he plotted with the Guerreras. He spilled his own people's blood."

"I have no love for Oliver, but he's been trying to make up for his mistakes. That's how he got captured, putting his ass on the line to protect a bunch of children."

Jack shrugs. "It doesn't matter. Witches have him. He's dead. Not that I care."

"You know what?" Caroline stands to her feet, her voice going up a notch as her patience finally snaps. Jackson's indifference is not only unnerving, it's outrageous. While he sits here shooting arrows with his new wolf friend, his Crescent family gets terrorized by the witches - and the ones who dare to stand up to them, like Oliver, get mercilessly axed. She would love to scold him on all the ways he's failing his people as an alpha right now and bite back at the bitter blankets he's giving her, but she doesn't have the time. _Ollie_ doesn't have the time. "Ollie may be a jackass and a traitor, but at least he's doing something about it, trying to become a better person. You don't wanna be an alpha anymore? Fine. Suit yourself. I'll save Oliver myself."

As she stalks off, Ansel jumps to his feet, following her with his bow already flung behind his back. Caroline turns, hands on her hips, chin up. "You got a problem with that, old man? Cause I can take you."

"I have no love for vampires," he says, in that grave voice of his, not a hint of emotion. "But I will not allow a fellow werewolf to be murdered by witches."

Caroline regards him for a moment. Traditionally, she would question this sudden bout of generosity from a stranger, but the truth is... She could use the extra pair of hands. And in any case... Whatever weird vibes she's getting off of _Ansel_ , for some reason she doesn't think he means to harm her. Not really.

She turns away, but not before glaring at Jackson one last time. "At least someone is interested."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Like having Caroline out on crazy rescue missions - and knowing who exactly Klaus would be blaming in case anything happens to her - wasn't enough, the other blonde feisty woman in Marcel's life sends him a distress signal. She sounded upset, and considering what she'd uncovered the last time she was at her uncle’s witchy storage apartment, he didn't think it was smart to leave her waiting.

He rushes over to the apartment and finds Camille hunched over something he's actually seen before: Kieran's book of records of New Orleans families. He used to carry it under his arm to some of their council meetings. For generations, the O'Connells had been keeping tabs on the French Quarter heritage, which was how he eventually managed to figure out the truth about the Guerreras. Seeing Cami anxiously flipping over those pages now send a chill up his spine.

"Hey," he says.

She beckons for him to approach, tapping her finger over a name at the bottom of a page. Vincent Griffith. The man who's been supervising Cami's residency. _Oh, shit..._

She looks up at him with indignation flaring up behind her wide eyes. "Who is he, Marcel? I mean, really."

"Long story short..." He opens and closes his mouth a few times as he tries to come up with the simple version of facts, but there just doesn't seem to be one. "Impossible."

"I checked the school's website. Vincent Griffith has no other academic credentials, and according to my uncle's big book of New Orleans bloodlines, the Griffiths are a family of witches. What is going on here?"

"It's worse than that, really." Cami frowns, folding her arms across her chest. "Your therapist has a thousand years old dead vampire inside of him named Finn Mikaelson."

Cami's face falls. "Mikaelson? As in -"

"Klaus' older brother, Finn Mikaelson. Yes."

Cami grips the edge of the desk next to her, as though suddenly losing her balance. "Oh, God, Marcel. He came into Rousseau's today asking questions about Klaus and ordered my favorite drink like he's been watching me. Why?"

"Probably to get the scoop on the family, maybe to use you as bait for a trap. He must've figured out you're close. I don't know. It doesn't matter. Either way, you're done with that guy."

"Oh, no." Cami's face sets to determination as she turns back to him, a steely glint in her eyes. "I'm just getting started."

"Are you insane? You're gonna spy on a witch with a thousand-year-old grudge match against Klaus?" he fires at her. "This isn't just about Finn, or Vincent, or whoever, Cami. His father is back, his mother is back. You know what that family's like, you heard it all from Klaus. If Vincent is keeping tabs on you, there's a reason for that, and he will not hesitate to use you to get to his siblings. Nuh-uh." He shakes his head vehemently, drawing a line under the argument. "I'm not letting you go anywhere near that guy."

Cami grunts in frustration, tapping her feet impatiently at him. The look she gives him reminds him a _lot_ of a certain other blonde who waltzed into his loft this morning. "I can handle myself, Marcel."

"Handle yourself? Cami... This is an _Original_ we're talking about here, trapped in the body of a powerful witch. I get it. You're mad at the guy for using you, you want to get even -"

"It's not about getting even. Look around." She gesticulates frantically. "Everything in this room, this is my family's legacy. And if I had just embraced it the first time around, I could've uncovered Francesca Guerrera's secret sooner. The wolves would've never taken over the Quarter, Caroline wouldn't have been turned into a vampire and her baby would still be alive. So don't tell me not to get involved - I _have_ to get involved."

Marcel opens his mouth ready to fire back at her fair - and commendable, really - but _very_ flawed logic, when his phone buzzing in his pocket cuts him off. Speak of the devil... Caroline.

"Hold that thought." He walks to the door and takes the call. "Tell me you got your alpha."

"He's out of commission, but I got the next best thing. Do _you_ have a plan to keep Finn occupied? We need to act."

Marcel looks back at Camille, with that fighting heart and the fire in her eyes, and lets out a defeated sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I might have an idea."

"Great! Then set it in motion, I'll head to the cemetery with... My guy."

"Caroline -"

"Don't ask. It'll be fine. Bye."

He puts his phone down with a sagging of his shoulders. None of this situation combines to make him feel optimistic, but it's too late to pull the plug now.

He meets Cami's expectant gaze, she arches her eyebrows at him in question. "So... You want to help out? I got a mission for you."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus comes to with a gasp. His eyes fly open and all he sees is the vastness of the night sky. He scrambles up into a sitting position, a nagging ache on the back of his neck, and finds Esther still there, a vague expression on her face.

"Apologies for the headache," she offers. "Were you having a dream?"

Klaus blinks back a flash of memory. He wasn't dreaming, he was remembering. Very few moments from his ancient life have stayed with him with quite the same vividness as the day he found out who his father was. It was his first full moon after his mother turned them into monsters and they'd slaughtered half the village in a matter of weeks. Klaus turned, killed dozens of innocents and woke up shivering the next day, mortified and confused. Elijah was the one who found him in the woods, covered in blood from head to toe, afraid of moving an inch out of his place.

It took a minute for she shock and the fear to wear off and the pieces to come together. When it finally became clear that he wasn't like his siblings, that he was the bestial fruit of a betrayal, son of one of the very creatures who'd killed his little brother, Klaus confronted Esther. Unable to keep her farce any longer, she confessed. She gave him a name - Ansel - and described a tattoo he had on his arm.

Klaus set out to find him almost immediately. But so did Mikael. And the Destroyer got to him first. Klaus found his real father's body in the woods, impaled on a Viking pike. He was still warm, his open eyes staring into nothing. Klaus sank to his knees and cried for hours - for himself, for Ansel, for a lifetime of misery and what things could've been like if Esther had simply given away the product of her disgrace and allowed Klaus to be raised by his own people.

She was right when she said that that had been his greatest grievance. Klaus never hated his mother more than he did in that moment. Until she came for Caroline and his daughter, that is.

"it was my darkest hour, your father's death," she speaks quietly. "Had you not killed me soon thereafter, I doubt I would've recovered." She checks her wristwatch. "You woke earlier than I expected. No matter. It is time."

"Time for what?" he asks, pushing off the ground.

"You said you wanted Elijah. He's sleeping, chained to the wall in a tomb at Lafayette Cemetery. I've lifted the spell that hides him. You are free to take him home. Now his own mind will work out his choice for him. When he wakes, he will make his own decision." Esther approaches him, her eyes boring into his. "Every single thing I've said to you tonight is the truth, Niklaus. Whether you choose to believe it is up to you."

He finds that all that burning hatred he'd felt earlier has bled out of him while he lay dead, lost in memories. His will to torture honesty out of his mother, gone. He realizes now that, whatever she says, he won't ever believe her, no matter how sincere she might appear, or how much she believes her own lies. His capacity for trust was destroyed the day he found out about his origin, and from that moment on, Esther has done absolutely nothing to win him back. Quite the opposite. When she turned on the woman he loves and his child, she lost him for good.

Esther deserves nothing but his contempt and he will make sure she pays for all the pain she's caused not only him, but his family - his _real_ family, the ones he cares about. Like Elijah, who's stood by him through everything, the worst of his pain, his anguish, his mania, and now has fallen yet another victim of their mother's righteous cruelty.

Klaus leaves the old woman to her insane ramblings and blurs off into the night, to rescue one of the very few things Esther has given him for which he's truly grateful: his brother.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Everything is quiet at the cemetery. _Way_ too quiet.

There's a prisoner being held at the Lycée and an execution scheduled to happen in - Caroline checks her phone - two and a half hours. Logic tells that this place should be brimming with witches and ringed werewolves. Instead, there's... Well, no one.

Caroline was ready to have to fight a pocket war just to be able to get close to the Lycée, but here she is, hiding behind a tomb right across from the entrance, just waiting for Marcel to confirm that Finn is elsewhere, thoroughly distracted, so she and Ansel can storm the place and free Oliver. So far, they've not spotted a single soul. Call her a pessimist, but when things seem too easy, it's because they're not. This _reeks_ of trap.

Jackson's friend has turned out to be quite useful. The guy knows what he's doing. He moves with an unnatural kind of precision, barely makes a noise. He went ahead of her, signaling for her to stop or move as he cleared the area, hawk eyes sharp and focused. The speed with which he pulls that bow from his back and gets an arrow ready to shoot is really impressive, too. He'd make serious money doing that for show at Jackson Square. It's a much more eye-catching trick than many street artists' Caroline's seen.

If before it was him staring at her, now it's Caroline who can't stop looking. The way he cocks his head, the steel in his eyes... It's on the tip of her tongue, but she can't seem to recall _what_ exactly she's seeing there, if it's recognition or if he reminds her of someone. But this posture, this commanding attitude, the way he holds himself... This guy's no ordinary werewolf. He's an alpha, for sure. So where is his pack? Why would someone like him, so obviously proud, be in a pity party with Jackson in the deepest part of the Bayou?

"Who _are_ you?" The question slips out as though off its own will, and Caroline only realizes she's spoken out loud when he snaps around to her, eyebrows slashed together. But then his expression changes, the hard lines on his face smoothing out for the first time.

"I'm -"

He's cut out by her phone buzzing away in her pocket. It's a text from Marcel. She looks up at him, the moment gone, cold professionalism sliding back into place. Whatever he was going to say is forgotten when she gives him a nod. Show time, then.

Ansel steps out ahead of her as he's done every single time, even though he's the mortal and she's the vampire, and then motions for her to move to the door while he covers for her. Caroline flashes forward, pushing the place's double doors open at once, ready to launch at whoever's in there keeping guard.

But there's no one.

This _cannot_ be right.

Ollie is all by himself, chained and hanging from the ceiling, blood running down his face.

"Oliver," Caroline says, striding across the room to him. "Oliver, wake up," she shakes him.

He seems to snap back into consciousness, blinking rapidly until Caroline finally comes into focus. And then he frowns. "What the hell are you doing here?" he slurs, his voice scratchy and barely there. "And who the hell is that?"

"We're your rescue party," she explains, looking to try and understand the chains. "Tell me you know where Elijah is." Ollie shakes his head, wincing in pain. "Crap. Right. Let me get you out of these."

Just as Caroline starts pulling on the chains to try and break them with the least amount of discomfort for Oliver, there's a noise outside, heavy footsteps and someone barking out orders. "They know we're here," Ansel announces, just to confirm what she already knew.

It had to be too good to be true. They wanted them trapped in there before they attacked, easier to surround them, harder for them escape. "Sorry, Ollie. No time to be gentle." With a firm jerk, she breaks the chains and Oliver drops to the ground with a loud grunt. "Can you stand? We need to go."

"Just leave me here," he speaks from behind gritted teeth. "You shouldn't even have come. Go."

"To hell with that," she bites out, turning back to Ansel. Oliver is way too weak for a quick escape. They're gonna gonna have to stay and fight. She might get a few bites, but hopefully she'll manage to find Klaus before it becomes fatal. "They want a fight, I'll give them a fight."

"No," Ansel says sharply. "I came here with you to save one of my own, not to watch you kill scores with them."

"They're not gonna let us out of here alive and I have a sad story to tell you if you think they give a rat's ass about sparing _their own_."

"I'll hold them off here. Take your friend out the back door, move as fast as you can."

"You're insane. You can't fight all of them -"

"I know what I'm doing," he cuts her off, his gaze unflinching. "Now _go_."

 _Fuck_ . Caroline looks back at Oliver and then at Ansel. She doesn't want _anybody_ to die tonight, but Ansel seems _really_ confident. She resists the urge to stand her ground and stay anyway and rushes over to Oliver, pulling him up, an arm around her shoulder while she supports most of his weight.

"Ansel," she calls back to him before leaving. "Don't die."

The man's lips curve just on the edge of a smile. "Get out of here, Caroline."

This time, she doesn't argue. If she takes longer, trying to sneak out will be useless, and Ollie has zero chance of surviving a fight at this point. He puts up a strong front and doesn't complain, but she knows he's in terrible pain, can sense it by the way he grits his teeth and swallows down hard as she half-carries him across the cemetery, his breath faltering every now and then.

She comes to a halt when she hears the sound of fast approaching feet. She puts Oliver down, leaning against one of the tombs, while she inspects. It's a group of maybe ten or twelve wolves, and the one in charge of them is Aiden, one of Jackson's closest friends whom she met at the camp. She would _gladly_ beat the crap out of him, the stupid traitor, but she heard he was one of the guys with Oliver when they went to get help for the children. One of them was his brother.

Caroline chooses to reveal herself, then, hoping that those men will see the light and allow her and Oliver to leave without the need for bloodshed. They all tense up when they see her, hands fisting and jaws clenching left and right.

"Why don't you just let us go and we can call it a day?" she offers reasonably.

Aiden hesitates, his nerves showing. Clearly these guys don't know of his adventures. "No," he replies. "I don't think so."

"Well, then. We'll have to do this the hard way."

"You can't fight all of us."

"Maybe not," she shrugs. "But you'll have to kill me to hold me off, and I'll _definitely_ take at least a few of you down with me. Don't know if you've heard, but I'm not _exactly_ your ordinary vampire. You might find me a _bit_ harder to break. And when you eventually do, and I'm dead, you're gonna have to deal with the rage of a rabid hybrid, and I'm gonna be very sorry that I won't be here to see him whip your asses straight to hell with his pinky. He kinda likes me, you see." She punctuates her sentence with a smirk, savoring the fear that flashes through their eyes.

"You idiots!" Ollie steps out, a hand on his rib as he limps forward. "You're lining up to sign your death certificates? For what? So you can kill me? All because some witch gave an order? I know I ain't innocent, but I never lost sight of what I was fighting for. We were gonna be a pack, _strong_ . But now... We're turning on each other, killing our own people. Aiden, you _know_ her. She cared for our people at the camp, helped us out, even stood up against the Originals for us." Aiden casts his gaze downwards, ashamed. Caroline feels a flutter of warmth for Oliver, maybe for the first time ever. "We continue on that path, we're nothing. No better than the vampires we've been fighting for decades. And then what the hell was all that for? What's the point?"

There's a heartbeat’s pause, the wolves exchanging looks between them in silent agreement before they step aside to allow them to pass. Oliver lets out a shuddery, pained breath, making it clear he wasn't as full of confidence as he seemed to be while delivering that alpha-worthy speech. She throws one of his arms around her shoulders again, easing away some of his burden as they walk past the wolves.

"Well said," she whispers to him, smiling, and watches as he smiles back in return.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

There's something definitely off with Lafayette Cemetery tonight. Not that it is in any way _right_ the rest of the time, this sodden place is definitely cursed, but there's bloody _fog_ rising from the ground, the air unnaturally chilly and more biting than it was outside the gates.

When his mother says _go and get your brother_ , of course she doesn't mean offering him a clear path. A part of him even expected to run into some kind of trap. She's been keeping Elijah prisoner, perhaps now she means to do the same to him. Still, he had to take the risk. Elijah can't stay in the hands of that hateful woman any longer.

Klaus strides across the cemetery with a purpose, trying to follow his brother's scent, but just as he appears to be getting closer, he hears the sound of fighting further ahead. Strangely enough, it seems like it might be entirely unrelated, as there are no guards or werewolves anywhere around the tomb where his brother's likely being kept.

Klaus decides to take on a quick detour and see what's going on. Some poor sod has been surrounded by werewolves, and is fighting the lot of them with nothing but a hunt knife. The strangest part is that the man is a werewolf himself, though Klaus fails to spot a ring on his finger. Perhaps he's one of the dissidents, decided to pick a fight with his more cowardly brethren. He's doing a good job at holding them off on his own, but he can't resist this much longer. They're too many.

Klaus notices a wolf prowling the roof of a nearby tomb, ready to jump the man, and, in a random bout of camaraderie, decides to intervene. He's got more important things to do than save some stranger's life, but what the hell. He must be in a charitable mood.

When the wolf jumps, Klaus wraps a hand around his leg and throws him down. Another one tries to intervene, but Klaus merely dodges his poor attempt at a punch and snaps his neck. When the body drops in front of him, he's finally face to face with the lone hero, gets a proper look at the man. And it’s like the floor is suddenly pulled from under his feet.

Klaus has this lurching feeling at the pit of his stomach as though he's falling. His heart constricts violently as he blinks, once, twice, unable to believe his eyes. Shorter hair, different clothes... But it's him. It's the same man from his memory. He could never forget that face. His dead, unseeing eyes - the exact same color as his own - are seared onto his mind.

 _His father_.

"You," he mumbles, his voice trickling into a breath.

A light comes up behind the man’s eyes, his entire face brightening up with emotion. "Niklaus," he whispers, his voice at the same time completely strange and oddly familiar, a vibration that echoes deep inside of him, sending a ghastly shiver up Klaus’ spine.

He reaches out to him, but Klaus takes two stumbly steps back. "No, no..." he shakes his head. "You're not real!"

"Niklaus -"

"No! You're a phantom conjured by Esther! That is all you are! Mother, stop this charade!" he spins on his feet, barking furiously. She must be here, laughing at him, that odious, awful woman. "I know that _thing_ is not real!"

"Look at me, Niklaus," the man says, commanding such an authority that he cannot help but oblige. His stomach churns away manically. "I am flesh and blood. _Your_ flesh and blood."

"You've been dead for a thousand years!"

"Yes. And through that time, I lingered on the Other Side, watching you let the world fall apart... Until I woke, four moons past in a land of wolves like myself."

"No. _No_! You're just in my head. You're an illusion, meant by my mother to sway me to accept her bargain."

"I do not speak for Esther. I know nothing of her bargain. But you are my son, and I’ve been looking for you." He reaches out to touch him again, going for his face, but Klaus wraps a hand around his arm and pulls it down. The sleeve of his shirt is rolled up to his elbows, and he can see the tattoo, exactly as he remembers. He feels... Real. Warm to the touch. Beating heart and pulsing blood. But he can't be, because Klaus is the one who found his dead body. And if he is really here... Then it cannot be for a good reason. This has Esther written all over it.

"Even if what you say is real," he starts, letting go of the man as he levels him with a dark look. His jaw sets stubbornly, his voice pitched low and menacing. "You are nothing to me. For all I care, you can crawl back to hell."

Before he blurs away, back to rescue Elijah, he could swear he sees something like hurt flashing through the man's eyes.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Are you sure you don't want my blood?" Caroline asks as she bandages one of Oliver's wounds - which is totally useless, by the way, because she's no doctor but she's pretty sure he's got some cracked ribs. And that might be the least of his problems. They got him pretty bad and shoved wolfsbane down his throat until he almost had a heart attack. He's not gonna heal on his own and she can no longer help with the pain. What she _can_ offer, however, is _much_ better than any of that, but try reasoning with a werewolf, even one with multiple fractures and in excruciating pain. "It would make things so much -"

"I'm not drinking vampire blood," Ollie grits out, angry.

"Fine." She sits back on her heels. "Suit yourself. But you definitely need a hospital, then."

Jackson snorts behind them, and Caroline turns her head to see him still sulking around the fire, doing much of nothing to help.

"Got something to say, Jackson?" she asks, glowering.

"Well, you got him. Great." He keeps his voice steady, but Caroline can hear all the acid inflections in his tone. "Where's Ansel?"

"He was a little busy being an alpha," she fires back. "Should be right behind us."

"Jack..." Ollie starts, pushing himself up. Caroline helps him, offering her arm so he can steady himself. "I have to tell you."

"I already know everything, Ollie," he snaps, not hiding his resentment anymore. "You sold me out to Francesca."

Oliver takes an unsteady breath. "Look... I know that I can't make up for the shit that I did. But you need to hear this, ok? You're the one, Jack. You're the alpha. Our people are not meant to be slaves and I thought I could lead them, but I can't. They need you. You can free them. Don't -"

Ollie is cut off by a sharp wave of coughing. He doubles over, his face twisting in pain, and Caroline immediately stands to her feet, holding him.

Jackson jumps from his seat, rushing over to his friend, cradling Oliver in his arms as he pulls him down gently. All that bitterness is suddenly gone, his face mangled with worry. "Ollie," he speaks, softly. "What's wrong with him?" he asks, with a clear hint of despair.

Caroline shakes her head lightly as understanding dawns on her. "It's the witches. They said he only had until midnight, I..." She breaks off, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. There was nobody with Oliver because they didn't need anyone to execute him. The spell had already been done. He would die regardless of where he was.

Jackson's eyes brim with tears. "Stay with me, Ollie," he pleas. Oliver won't stop coughing, can hardly breathe anymore, but when he finally stops quaking and his body seems to relax, blood starts running down his eyes.

Caroline's throat tightens.

Jackson leans over the body of his friend as sobs rake through him. She never thought she'd cry on Oliver's death, but now she can barely look.

So much death... She's had enough of this for a thousand years.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus' mind is not clear. He feels sick with a kind of all-consuming fever, his thoughts racing, scattered, blood pounding so loud in his ears he can't even think. The second he lays eyes on Elijah, however, he sobers up, his focus instantly sharpening. His entire messy world boils down to his brother and what needs to be done.

Elijah is unconscious, his clothes and skin bloodied in a way that indicates his mother likely cut his throat open, maybe more than once, in an attempt to make him more liable to her manipulations. Klaus tastes something sour in his mouth while he pulls hard on the voodoo puppet hanging above Elijah's head, tearing it apart before he does the same to the chains on both his arms. Before he can slide to the ground, though, Klaus catches him, holding his head gently.

"Elijah," he croons, only above a whisper, their foreheads touching. Klaus can hear his brother's heart beating slowly, his body unusually cool, but he shows no sign of recovery. Elijah is strong, way too strong. The kind of torture it would take to make him this broken... It makes Klaus bristle. "Wake up, brother. I need you here."

"He won't wake. Not yet." _Esther_. When he saw that man outside, he knew she couldn't be very far. "You and I need one last chance to discuss my offer."

Angers flares hot while he gently lays his brother down, but he tries not to let it seep into his voice. He doesn't want to give her the satisfaction. "You promised me Elijah's safe return,” he speaks as he breaks the metal cuffs binding his wrists. “Or was that another lie, just like that ghoulish atrocity outside, claiming to be my father back from the dead?"

"Your father's return is real. I pulled him from the Other Side before it collapsed, left him in the Bayou to join the wolves, and I used the execution of one of his own to draw him here, where I knew he'd find you. Do you know who brought him here? Who rallied him towards saving the werewolf Oliver?"

"Oh, let me guess. Was it Little Red Riding Hood? Or perhaps the Easter Bunny? Some other fairy tale creature you decided to bring forth?"

The smile that curls at his mother's mouth is predatory. "Caroline." Klaus' sarcastic frown descends into a glare. "She's a fearless one, isn't she?"

Klaus stands to his feet, pointing a finger at his mother. "Stay away from her," he hisses sharply. "Do you understand?"

"I didn't do anything, son. Honestly, I didn't think she'd get involved at all. But don't worry. She's safe and sound, as much as a vampire could ever be."

"To what end are you doing all this? Just to torment me? Won't it ever be enough?"

"I brought Ansel here to be the father you never had, to teach you to become the man you always longed to be. Once you are remade as a werewolf, you can join him. You could have the life you were always meant to have, Niklaus."

"You're a _few_ years too late, mother. His return changes nothing."

"It changes everything. This is my gift to you, Niklaus. This offer is your last chance at salvation. Reject me now and you will live out your endless days unloved and alone. Do not refuse me out of some ancient spite -"

"Not spite," he interrupts her. "Hatred. A pure and perfect hatred that's greater now than the day I first took your life."

"Why?" Esther cries. "After all I've done to explain to you, why must you persist -"

Klaus' fragile restraint explodes as he flashes over to his mother, his hand closing around her neck as he slams Esther back against the wall. Her eyes widen in a blend of fear and pain. " _Because you came for Caroline! You came for my daughter, your own blood_!" he screams, breathing hotly on her face.

"You... Don't understand..." Esther stutters as she tries to speak. "Niklaus, I had to..." She lifts a hand and Klaus feels a pulse of pain in his head, but he holds on to her even as his nose bleeds.

"You took _everything_ from me," he continues, a chilly tone that detracts from the burning rage coursing inside of him. "You denied me the love of a father. You turned me into a monster and denied me my werewolf nature. You put that despicable man to hunt me and my siblings for a thousand years, making our lives miserable. And then you came for my child, caused the death of the most precious person in the world to me. Now you try to take my brother away. You declared war when you came for my family, and for that, I will make you suffer as only I can." He lets her go, watching as Esther slides down to the ground, small and scared, her own shaky hands gripping her neck as she drives in sharp, ragged breaths. "I'll make you proud, Esther. After all, I learned from the best, and I am every bit my mother's son."

He slides his arms underneath Elijah and picks up his still unconscious body, throws him over one shoulder and then flashes out of the tomb and into the night.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid this chapter ranks very low on my KCness scale, but it does have some very important points for things that will happen ahead. Also, JACKSON. :D I give myself cookie points for Jackson, ok?
> 
> Thank you for reading! ❤


	7. S02E07 Chasing the Devil's Tail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter... I went back and forth on this chapter for AGES. Rewrote, deleted and started again several scenes, and I was still not entirely happy with how it turned out, not sure I was conveying exactly what I meant to. I hope you guys enjoy it and get what I was going for here. This chapter is kind of an important point, much more so than it was in the actual show, because stuff that happens here will reverberate throughout the rest of the story in certain ways.
> 
> Really nervous about this one! Hope you enjoy it! :)

* * *

Elijah sleeps.

Klaus sat with his brother all night. Fed him blood. Held his hand and spoke to him. And still Elijah slept. And as the night went on, his slumber became more and more troubled, sickly, plagued with what Klaus can only assume are terrible nightmares.

Elijah is sweating profusely, burning up in feverish torment, eyes moving frantically behind his closed lids. From time to time, he mutters incoherent words, twitches and trembles, his fists clenching tightly. He is restless, and Klaus is hopeless. He doesn't know what else to do.

Each hour that goes by, Klaus feels a tendril of fear uncurling further in his guts. Esther said he'd be safe, but Klaus doubts that woman's every word as he doubts her intentions. She is wretched, nothing but rancor and vileness, towards none more so than her own children. If Elijah resists her bargain, if he hardens himself to her ministrations, he'll just sink further and further into this madness she's instilled in him. Klaus doesn't know what he finds most frightening; the thought his brother might never wake up, or the scars he might have once he finally does.

He's been so worried about Elijah that he's hardly had any time to think about Ansel, his very own Esther-branded nightmare. It would be naive of him to expect that problem to take care of itself and stay away. The way the man spoke, it didn't sound as though he planned on going anywhere, anytime soon. But that particular nuisance will have to wait for now. His family - his  _ real _ family, not some man Klaus never truly knew - takes precedence.

Growing impatient with Elijah's tossing and turning, Klaus gets off the armchair and leans over his brother's body on the bed. "I know you are locked in battle," he coos softly, hoping that his voice might reach him, soothe him. "However deep in your mind our mother has set the stage, hear my voice, Elijah. Our mother thinks she will win because she had left you alone, but you are not alone. I'm here with you, brother." Klaus puts a hand on his chest, the other one on the top of his head. "Let me in. Let me help end whatever torture she forced upon you."

Klaus shuts his eyes and tries to get inside his brother's mind. Elijah's barriers are thick and powerful; getting inside an Original's head without permission is almost impossible. But Elijah has been weakened, battered, and he is unconscious. It shouldn't be too hard, not for Klaus. He tries to force his way in, but even comatose as he is Elijah fights him. Klaus' persistence shows him glimpses of the nightmare his brother is locked in. He sees a forest, engulfed by night; he sees Elijah, bloodlust glimmering through the darkness in his gaze as he seems to chase after someone.

Klaus senses the link fraying, knows that he'll lose his connection any second and tries to dive deeper, but Elijah repels him with such strength that Klaus is physically thrown. He stumbles back and crashes into something - or rather, someone.

"Woah, there," Caroline says as she steadies him. "What are you doing?"

Klaus puffs out a frustrated breath, straightening himself. "I'm trying to enter Elijah's thoughts to wake him. Esther has locked me out."

"You have a..." Caroline touches her nose, and Klaus scrubs a hand across his. Elijah's repulsion was so strong it gave him a nose bleed. "Nothing yet?" she asks, her blue eyes stricken with concern as she sets them on Elijah. Klaus merely shakes his head once, shame rattling away inside of him at his complete uselessness.

Caroline' frown deepens as she approaches the bed, touching a spot on Elijah's neck. "Have you noticed this?" she asks, pulling his shirt collar down. "This rash looks like the mark of a spell."

There are tiny reddened dots right above Elijah's collarbone, a mark that at first glance might seem like a physical manifestation of his ill condition, but that immediately jerks up a memory, a really old one.

"I haven't seen this since I was a child..." he muses. "Mikael would return home from battle more blindly temperamental than usual and our mother would use the petals of a rare Marelok orchid to put him to sleep. She would mend his mind with a spell and then wake him with the roots of the same plant."

"If she has access to that now, then maybe it also grows in the Bayou," Caroline offers.

Klaus feels a spike of optimism flaring up all of a sudden. Caroline is  _ brilliant _ . He would kiss her right now if he wasn't in such hurry. She's barely done speaking and he's already whipping around. "You stay here and mind the fort with your wolves."

"I would rather rip your mother's head off,” she speaks around an annoyed exhale.

Klaus stops, turns back to her. "Steer clear of her," he says pointedly. Caroline rolls her eyes. "I mean it, Caroline. She already got you once. I will not let you fall victim to her madness again. She has come for Elijah, she has come for me, she will  _ certainly _ come for you."

"Has it occurred to you that maybe all she cares about is bullying her own children?"

"Yes, and what better way to do that than messing with the one thing both her sons care about?"

Caroline shifts awkwardly, casting her eyes down. "Fine," she grumbles.

"Caroline," he says, drawing it as a warning.

She arches her eyebrows, looking up at him with too-earnest eyes. "I won't go after her. I promise." Something about the way she says that doesn’t sit right with him, just on the edge of a boldfaced lie, but he does not have the time to dwell on it. Whatever's on Caroline's mind - and he knows there's something - he'll just hope that she'll be reasonable about it, and at the very least keep this contrived promise. What he told her last morning remains just as true, if not more so, after the latest events: he can't save Elijah if he's worried about her, and right now his brother needs to be a priority.

He peers at her reproachfully, but leans forward to place a kiss on her cheek. "Try speaking to him," he asks, glancing one last time at his brother. "Maybe your voice will get through in a way mine couldn't."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Whenever a Mikaelson comes knocking, Marcel knows his plans for a quiet day off French Quarter drama are effectively ruined. What is the point of being exiled and unable to even set foot on his side of the city if trouble won't leave him alone all the way across the river? He's getting all of the disadvantages with none of the perks.

It's not that he wants the Quarter to let him be; it's just the principle of the thing that he finds very disagreeable.

Caroline marches into his loft with the same confidence of her new family, a Mikaelson in everything but the name. Marcel looks up from the book he's reading, sighing, ready to offer a formal complaint, but he stops when he sees she has Aiden on tow. He has to admit the unexpected pair spikes his curiosity.

"I was told you had found your alpha," he says flatly.

"I did, but he's currently busy moping around," she replies. "Good morning, Marcel." Well, at least she's nice, unlike the rest of the family.

"So you brought junior varsity instead?" he asks. Aiden cocks his head at Marcel. "You know, I'm getting a little tired of my place being used as a den for wayward wolves. You people come and go as you please. This is private property."

"Oh, Aiden and I just thought you might want in on our little plan, but I guess you're not interested, then?"

Marcel narrows his eyes slightly at her. "I don't know if I want to ask."

"We want to take down Finn. Considering how he treated you and the rest of the vampires, I assumed you might be interested in joining the bloodbath. But if you're not -"

Marcel sits up straight, puts down his book. "I'm listening," he says, motioning for them to take seats.

"Thought you might," Caroline says, a triumphant grin kicking up the corners of her lips. Both her and Aiden make themselves comfortable on the couch across from him.

"It's not gonna be easy," Aiden starts, going straight to the point. "He's strong, but paranoid, so he is constantly surrounded by a pack of juiced-up wolves. He doesn't have any weaknesses."

Marcel snorts. "He does actually, and I have her on speed dial." Caroline frowns questioningly. "He's got a thing for Cami."

"What?  _ Finn _ has a thing for Cami? How…?"

"He's inhabiting the body of her supervisor, Vincent Griffith. They've been seeing each other with a certain frequency over the past couple of months. And, apparently, he's got a crush."

"Wait..." Caroline puts one palm out in the air. "Cami's Vincent is  _ Finn _ ?"

"You didn't know that?"

"No!" she says, her voice an octave higher and tinged with fiery indignation. "I never met Finn. But I knew about Vincent.  _ Shit _ . We can't get her involved, Marcel. We need to get her as far away from him as we can."

"She's already involved. How do you think we got him distracted long enough for you to rescue Oliver?"

Caroline's face falls. "What?! How come no one tells me these things?!"

"Maybe because we knew you'd go ballistic if you knew.”

"Damn well I would! How could you let her do that? If Finn even so much as  _ suspected _ -"

"But he didn't," Marcel cuts her off, raising his voice above her next wave of objections. "I know, all right? I was skeptical too and I gave her this exact same speech. Trust me, I do not want Cami in the middle of this mess, but she insisted. She claims this is her family's legacy."

"If she calls getting murdered by psychopaths a legacy, then sure," Caroline retorts bitterly.

"Caroline... I understand your concern, and I even share it, but you might not have realized just how much like yourself Camille is."

Caroline blinks at him, scrunching up her lips into a pout. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

“Cami's got a thing with people telling her what she can or cannot do. Trust you, of all people, understand. Case in point - does Klaus know that you're plotting to take down his brother?" He cocks her an eyebrow. Caroline bites back on a protest and purses her lips stubbornly instead. "Exactly. If he knew you're up to this, he'd go ballistic, too. But you don't care about that, do you? Honestly, we can argue all we want with Cami, but she's not wrong. Vincent does have a crush on her and she  _ is _ a blind spot for him, as it was proved last night. He dropped everything to go meet with her for a few drinks and never suspected a thing. She might be his only weakness, the only time he lets his guard down. If we play this right, she doesn't have to get hurt."

Caroline looks visibly vexed, tapping her feet nervously on the floor while she chews on the inside of her lip. Marcel can see all the arguments crossing her mind, but he also knows that if they were to be this prim, then he should call Klaus and let him know what's going on here - and he doubts Caroline wants him to. Besides, Cami's family’s chest of dark and twisted magical objects might have something that will help them with the unseemly task of capturing a powerful witch.

Caroline turns to Aiden, probably looking for support, and the werewolf recoils. "Don't look at me. I don't have an opinion."

She grunts, slumping back in her seat and blowing a disgruntled breath. Marcel takes that as a yes, then.

"I'll just go ahead and give her a call and then we can get started."

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It occurs to Klaus, for about five seconds, that perhaps he should've let Caroline tag along on his Bayou expedition after all. It takes him mere ten minutes to realize he has no idea where he's supposed to go. He remembers what the orchids looked like, and he could probably figure out where to find the sordid things were they in the deep woods of Virginia, but out here, he simply doesn’t have a single clue of where these plants are supposed to be growing. He certainly hasn't seen any during his brief stints roaming the area.

Caroline lived out here for a while, with werewolves, tracking plants and herbs for her everyday magical concoctions. She knows these lands better than Klaus ever did, even if his senses are way sharper than hers. It somehow slips his mind that being the most powerful creature to ever walk the earth doesn't necessarily means he's omniscient - although it often feels so.

His regret over not bringing Caroline with him dissolves almost as quickly as it forms, however, when he senses that heinous creature's presence not far behind him. Klaus feared he'd be running into him on his quest and he'd rather limit the man’s contact with Caroline. It's bad enough that they've already met, but she still has no idea about who he is, and Klaus prefers it that way. She has been exposed to enough agony on his family’s behalf.

Besides... Ansel isn't family. He's just a ghost Esther brought back from the Other Side to torment him, proving yet again she knows absolutely nothing of her own children. If she thinks that after a thousand years he will acquiesce to her preposterous offers because of some long-lost abandonment trauma, she hasn't been paying attention. If she'd truly coveted his forgiveness, Esther should've started by not plotting to assassinate her own granddaughter.

Klaus picks up his pace, trying to lose Ansel, but the man is unrelenting in his pursuit - and unable to take a famous  _ hint _ , as Caroline would say. Klaus can't use the full advantage of his vampire speed or he might risk losing the orchid, the whole point for this appalling endeavor. Honestly, as enamored as he is with New Orleans, despite how uncharitable it's been towards him lately, the Bayou is fast becoming Klaus' least favorite place on the entire godforsaken planet. Absolutely nothing good has ever come out of this bog, and every time he's forced to set foot here, he is hastily reminded of why he despises it so much.

Giving in to the annoyance at having his attention diverted from his mission while his brother lies out cold and in battle with his own mind, Klaus rounds up Ansel and surprises him by from behind.

"Stop following me," he grits out, pushing the other man up against a tree. A polite request had no effect, so perhaps a more direct approach will. "I have no intention of taking Esther's bargain and no desire to be remade a mortal being. Now kindly piss off. I'm in a hurry to help my real family."

Klaus shoves him off and continues on his path. "You seek the Marelok orchid," Ansel speaks, not as a question, and it hits a nerve.

Pursing his lips, he whips around, fists bunching at his sides. "And how exactly did you know that?"

_ Esther, no doubt _ , he thinks, already anticipating that this quest for Elijah's cure was also one of his mother's setups to bring the two of them together once more, just as that whole pathetic affair at the cemetery. It's just like Esther to be as despicably low as to use her own son to lure Klaus into a trap.

"I saw you carry Elijah home last night," Ansel says. "Who do you think used to find the orchid for your mother to put Mikael to sleep."

Klaus grunts in distaste. "I don't want to hear anything about your dirty tactics to elude him."

"Without my help, you could search forever."

"My mother brought you back from the dead and my sense of strategy tells me it wasn't to play a father-son game of hide-and-seek, so do us both a favor and stay away from me."

"You can storm off in a fit of stubbornness if you like," Ansel calls after him. His unshakable calm is frankly starting to get on Klaus' nerves more than his presence itself. "But I suggest you do so toward the west."

_ Oh, bloody hell. _

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The atmosphere in Marcel's living room as they all sit huddled together around his coffee table, bent over blueprints, is that of a war room.

Caroline had originally thought of a more direct approach - corner, attack, punch, that kind of thing - but Marcel and Aiden convinced her that if they really aim to get rid of Finn for good, they need to not only take him down, but keep him there. If they simply kill him, they'll be murdering poor Vincent Griffith, not Finn. The temptation will be certainly great nonetheless, but it’ll bring no rewards; he'll just walk right back into their lives when they least expect in a whole new body, which means they can't risk being  _ too _ aggressive. And as Aiden reminded her, he's constantly surrounded by a personal guard. Getting him on his own is tricky.

This is where Cami comes in. Of course she didn't even hesitate when they called, ready to jump head first into their creative but freakishly dangerous plan, even after Caroline thoroughly listed all the obvious ways it can go terribly wrong and leave her right in the middle of a battle between a bunch of supernatural psychos. Cami thinks that's  _ minor details _ .

Honestly, Caroline can understand where she's coming from better than anyone. She's been sucked into this mess and now Finn has been hounding her like a shadow, watching her, learning her habits. They've had  _ sessions _ together where Cami opened up to him about her feelings and insecurities. Of course she's mad; she's being stalked and betrayed and once more having her life infiltrated by a self-centered Mikaelson. Caroline would probably feel the same way. But Caroline was never  _ just _ mortal; she was a witch and now she's a vampire, while Cami is desperately human, in every good and bad sense of the word. If Finn suspects foul play from her, she's pretty much done for. And Caroline will never forgive herself if she loses another friend to this stupid war.

And yet, despite all of her very reasonable concerns, she knows she can't be the one to tell Cami to stay out of it, not if it's her choice to help. It would be condescending, not to mention incredibly hypocritical of her. She'd be doing to Cami exactly what Klaus did to her all through last year, keeping her out of plans and decisions when she had every right to be involved. It didn't just drive Caroline out of her mind, it also, on occasion, drove her unknowingly into the arms of danger. At least with them, Cami will have a plan and an exact idea of what she's getting herself into. All Caroline can do is make sure they execute everything to perfection so that her friend will be kept safely away from harm.

"Cami said Vincent wants to meet at Preservation Hall," Aiden says, pointing to the place on the map. "But he won't be unprotected. There will be wolves positioned here and here."

"Can we keep this alley to the left open?" Marcel asks. Aiden thinks on it for a moment and then nods.

"Great. We'll wait there and rip Vincent's head off," Josh says.

"We can't," Caroline objects. "He'll just body jump and come back with a vengeance."

"His body stays on," Cami says as she walks in carrying a cardboard box. "He'll have a hard time answering our questions without it." She puts the box down on the coffee table with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"Sweet. It's a big box of dusty, old junk. We're saved," Josh deadpans. Aiden seems to find it amusing, but Caroline frowns as she takes a closer look.

She can't feel magic anymore, not the way she did before, but she can still recognize it when it looks her dead in the eye. "Are all of these dark objects?"

"From my uncle's private collection," Cami explains. "I've been cataloguing them according to Kieran's notes. As far as I can tell, these can be used against witches specifically."

Marcel puts his hand in the box and fishes out a pair of dusty manacles. It sends uncomfortable goosebumps all through Caroline's body. Her jaw sets as vivid memories from last spring come to life; she can almost feel the weight of having those damned things on her wrists again, the pain of it biting into her flesh as she writhed and thrashed and desperately tried to set herself free, all through painful contractions.

"I know that one," she says darkly.

Marcel sneers. "Kinky."

Caroline sends him a cold, hard look from under her lashes. "They slapped those on me when I went into labor," she says, her voice sharp as a knife. The smile slides off Marcel's face and everyone's gazes set on her, taut expressions all over. "With those things on, witches can't do magic. I was forced to give birth to my daughter in chains, could do nothing all spent and hemorrhaging as I was to stop them from slitting my throat open and take her away."

At once, everyone faces away from her - everyone but Cami, whose eyebrows snap together in a pained and wrought expression. The silence is almost deafening, the air of camaraderie and optimism suddenly gone. Marcel knows what happened to her, but not in details. She doubts Josh and Aiden ever heard half of it.

It's still painful to repeat these things out loud; it's all very raw, all the emotions and sensations, the despair and the grief. It never really went away, just sort of settling inside of her instead, its edges dulled after months. Every once in a while, something will happen and suddenly all of her memories will resurface with full force, ripping the tender wounds wide open once more. She hates those moments more than anything. In a way, though, she likes to see what the story of her tragic death does to people, the look in their eyes when they're forced to confront the horror she has had to live through for five months now, soldiering on. It's a reminder as well as a threat, so they can understand that she is not to be trifled with, how far she'd be willing to go to get her much deserved justice. No one in that room lost more than Caroline did, and it's good that they know that.

"Sorry, too dark?" she deadpans. "Buzzkill."

Marcel clears his throat as he puts the manacles back in the box, still deliberately not looking at her. "So," he continues, moving the conversation back to Finn. "We're probably not gonna be able to get the handcuffs on him while he's surrounded by a werewolf entourage, but I guess this is the way to go."

"We'll just lure him away. I can do that," Aiden offers.

Caroline turns back to Camille, who suddenly looks a lot more nervous than she did a moment before. Perhaps Caroline's talk of slit throats and sacrificed babies made her remember what exactly she's going up against here. "Cami, if we do this, you're the bait. Are you sure you're ok with that?"

She swallows, a million things going through her big green eyes before they set to determination. "Make it look convincing. The guy's really smart."

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It never crossed Klaus' mind that having a parent who cares could be such a burden. Already he regrets every single time he bemoaned being robbed of a chance to know his true father. Hell, he takes it all back.

What does Ansel expect, honestly? That after such a long time, the two of them will suddenly bond? Any half-wit can see how the two of them have absolutely nothing in common. Ansel looks thoroughly at home treading across the Bayou in his flannel attire, while Klaus wants nothing more than to stay away from this insipid hell hole and is allergic to plaid and blue jeans. Ansel probably drinks beer and hunts his own dinner, while Klaus' idea of a perfect course meal is mixing a 500 dollars vintage wine with AB+ fresh from the vein. No doubt Ansel is also one of those purists who call his beastly nature a  _ gift _ and looks forward to the full moons, while Klaus is most appreciative of the fact his vampire half spares him of the torment and would trade it for nothing in this world.

And yet, despite all the glaring evidence to why it's pointless to try and establish any kind of connection here, Ansel is  _ obstinate _ .

He hasn't stopped making random questions, an infinite array of trivial remarks - about the Bayou, his life here since he was revived, the common uses of the herbs growing around them, all things Klaus couldn't care less about, especially given his current predicament. All his responses have been variations of grunts and incoherent grumbles, but it does not put the man off. He keeps on going, doggedly, like this excursion is some father-son bonding time rather than the bane of Klaus' entire existence. At this point, he's started to suspect Ansel might be deliberately leading him towards the wrong path just so they'll have more time together.

After a brief moment of reprieve that lasts for no more than ten minutes, he starts again.

"A thousand years estranged and you choose to walk in silence. Surely you must have some questions for me."

"Just one." Klaus stops, turns around, his temper flaring. "Is there a way to cure Elijah without having to listen to the pointless ramblings of an old man?"

Ansel grins, unflappable in the face of rejection. "I'm afraid the price of my expertise is conversation."

"You want to converse? Fine. Here's conversation. I used to tell myself that my real father must have had no idea I existed. Otherwise he would surely not leave me to suffer under Mikael." His voice carries a bitter timber despite his best attempts at indifference.

"Esther forbade me from seeing you. So I waited, knowing that one day you would trigger your curse and need your real father. I would be there, ready to welcome you with open arms." Ansel pauses, the wistfulness in his tone almost painful to hear. It's piercing how clear and unimpeachable his gaze is, like a man who's got nothing to hide, who knows not how to lie. For a mere second, Klaus dares to see himself in Ansel's eyes - same grey-blue shade, but lacking the darkness that lurks behind his own. This man, standing before him, is what he might've been. He is all of Klaus'  _ ifs _ made flesh. The thought repels and terrifies almost as much as it pulls him in.

"When it was finally time," Ansel continues after a beat. "Mikael found me first. I fought him for you... But I lost."

Klaus hesitates for barely a second, but it's enough for Ansel's hunter's attention to register it - the slight glimmer of hurt, the way his lip curled almost imperceptibly. He wills all those feelings away, wrestles it back into obscurity, a perfect mask of nonchalance marred by contempt sliding down to cover the tracks.

"Yes, well. Your grand declaration comes just a few centuries too late.”

"You joke, but I know you've always felt a void in your life." Klaus scoffs, but in what he's come to learn is true Ansel style, he ploughs on unabashed. "I've watched you from beyond for centuries. You've traveled all corners of the world, seen monuments erected, feasted on the blood of history's most extraordinary men, but you've never found peace. The only moments of joy in your life, however fleeting, have been simple pleasures. As you climbed the Himalayas. As you tended to your horses. Quiet days teaching that boy Shakespeare."

"Stop," Klaus growls.

"I watched you paint. I watched you dance with that girl, Caroline, for the first time in Mystic Falls. I watched you feel your unborn daughter kick."

" _ I said stop _ !" He shoves Ansel against a tree, not bothering with gentleness, ire boiling through his veins. It’s hard to tell what sets him off, what triggers his anger into exploding - the idea that this complete stranger might know him at all whilst he spent a millennium with nothing but a memory of a corpse, or his mention of Caroline. Her name rolling off his tongue falls on Klaus' ears with the sting of a threat. "A thousand years observing me, you say. Were your eyes closed as I slaughtered whole villages, fed my way through thousands of innocents? Because, let's face it, I have a tendency to play with my food," he speaks, voice laced with poison. He watches as the conviction in Ansel's eyes wavers for the first time, aversion tainting his devotion. He ignores the pang of remorse, and whispers silkily. "Have I made you proud... father?"

Klaus brushes past the werewolf and keeps moving towards west, his heart beating in an unsteady rhythm that allows him to feel all of the rough edges of its millennium-old scars.

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Kol scratches the inside of his arm with the hilt of his dagger. He should really teach Esther how to use a cell phone. Even though his mother's lovely message summoning him back to New Orleans, carved into his flesh, has already disappeared, he can still feel it. Just a tiny tingling under his skin, a lingering reminder that what Esther gives, she can readily take away.

He wasn't brought back to life because Esther wants all her family happily reunited for Thanksgiving dinners. He's here with a purpose, because she needed support, someone to get their hands dirty for her, and the second he ceases to be useful, he becomes absolutely disposable. She doesn't even have to stick a knife into his chest in order to kill him; can easily do it from across state borders as well.

Kol thought that maybe being a witch again would make things different, that he would finally get the chance to have the life he always wanted to. Be the person he always felt he was in his heart - because, contrary to popular belief, he does have one, however shriveled. He sees now that it was all a farce. No one in this family ever gave a toss about him and a new body wasn't going to change that. None of his siblings seemed glad to have him back - quite the opposite. And mother... Well, let's just say Kol's loyalties are severely shaken. He doesn't appreciate being used and discarded, especially not by a parent.

It's a good thing, then, that Kol always had his own side plans, in case things went awry.

Spending time with Davina hasn't exactly been a picnic, but it's given him a much-needed break to appreciate his next moves. He could've just stolen the white oak stake from her and come back, deliver it to Esther as she's been incessantly requesting, but somehow, he doesn't really feel like handing his mother the things she wants most. She says the stake is a guarantee, to make sure that Niklaus and Elijah will be safe until she convinces them to take her offer. With Mikael on the loose, it makes sense, he supposes. But if Kol steals the stake from Davina, she will never trust him again and, right now, Davina's allegiance is a more profitable prospect to him than Esther's.

For days he tried to help the little witch regain control of Mikael and work on her delinking spell. Nothing worked. Not even his encyclopedic witchy brain and the piles of ancient grimoires Davina got her hands on offered any answers to completing either spell, and he was truly trying to help this time, not sabotage her attempts.

Of course, he also tried to put his millennium-old charm to work, but Davina's resistance is as impressive as it is baffling. She's simply impervious to this body's blue eyes and boyish good looks. Quite something. Most girls would've given in within a day, but he's come to learn that Davina Claire is not like most girls. She's seen more darkness and experienced more loss at her wee age than most people will know in their whole lives. That kind of thing leaves a mark, it can break a person. Not her, though. It's made her tough, resolute. A bit too serious, maybe, challenging audience to please, for sure. Cracking a smile out of her is a backbreaking effort. For some reason, it just makes Kol want to try harder.

So if straight-out flirting won't work, he has to use a different approach. And he knows just what. He and Davina kind of want the same thing, after all. And Kol knows exactly  _ how _ to get it, all he needs is a little help. If nothing else, this little time they spent together, just the two of them, might've at least convinced her that he is on her side, ulterior motives or not. For now, that’s all either of them needs.

When mother sent him her idea of a text message, carving her request in an ancient language on his arm, he first offered to go back alone, find out what Esther wanted, but Davina volunteered to tag along. She had some business of her own in the French Quarter, she said, a thing or another she had to retrieve. Then they'd have to find a safe place to hide and work in peace, just in case Mikael decided to come back with a vengeance. So far, no word on evil old dad, which serves Kol no comfort. Not knowing what that man is up to just makes it all the more daunting.

"What did your mother want from you?"

Kol snaps out of his thoughts as Davina approaches, arms crossed over her chest, suspicion already scribbled over her beautiful features. That has been her resting face for the last so many days. A part of Kol takes that as a dare, challenging him to try and smooth out those angry lines. He quickly dismisses these thoughts, though; he's not here to make friends or find himself a new bird. He and Davina are way past the wooing phase. The jig is up and intentions are all out in the open. They're business partners now. That's all.

"She wants me to take that stake out of your bag and give it to her so that you can't kill Nik before she gets her big, happy family," he says flatly.

Davina visibly bristles. "Is that why you called me here?"

"I'm not my mother's puppet, darling. I want something different entirely." Kol pushes off the tomb he'd been leaning against, showing her the dagger in his hand. "I called you here because I want your blood." Davina's mouth opens, a protest ready to shoot, but he puts his palms forward in a pacifying gesture. "Relax, love. I'm not gonna take it. I'm asking politely."

"Sure, I'll just bleed for you without any explanation at all,” she scoffs.

"About a hundred years ago, this tomb right here used to be my playhouse. The witches I used to run with used to make all kinds of magic in here. That is, until I pissed the prettiest one off, as I tend to do, and, well. She locked me out."

Davina simply cocks her head, thoroughly unimpressed. "That explains nothing."

"Read the tombstone, love. The name of the witch was Mary Alice... Claire." Davina's face falls as she whips around to look at the name engraved on the stone. Apparently, she's not too familiar with her own family's history. "Only a Claire witch can open this tomb. Hence..." He offers Davina the dagger, hilt first.

She stills for a second, and Kol can feel the weight of her scrutiny. She doesn't trust him, not in the slightest. He does his best to appear as solemn as he possibly can, resisting the urge to twitch his lips into a smirk and offer a snarky remark that might tip her off. He really does need her blood to get in his old tomb, and he would rather not have to take it from her by force. Besides, he has a feeling she'll appreciate some of the trinkets behind that enchanted stone door. Some are wicked, some are widely entertaining and some might be the answer to all their problems.

He has no idea what the girl is looking for while her blue-green eyes search his face, but he shows her his true intentions. He means to do harm, yes, just not to her. It seems to be enough to appease her doubts for the time being, or else her curiosity was greater than her mistrust.

"Do not make me regret this," she says with a pointed glare as she takes the dagger from him. With one swift move, she slashes her palm open and then touches her splayed hand to the door. Old magic immediately clicks into place; it's almost like the tomb is  _ breathing _ , letting out a deep sigh, or maybe a contented breath over the return of a rightful master. With a loud, scratchy noise, the heavy-looking door rolls to the side, revealing the entrance to the cavernous tomb.

"You first," Davina says, bobbing her head towards it.

"As you wish."

Kol's heart skips a happy beat as he sets eyes on his favorite hiding place from back in the day. Everything is exactly as he remembers. A bit dusty, perhaps, but other than that, it seems no one's been in here since Nik locked Mary Alice away in that wretched nut-house, a hundred years ago. This was his sanctuary, his refuge from his family's insanity. In here, all of the turmoil inside of Kol smoothed into a windless sea, the rougher edges of his vampire-crazed instincts dulled. It was where he found himself, even if he couldn't practice magic. He used to spend hours and hours, sometimes days on end, locked up in here - and not only because Mary Alice was indeed an extremely fine lady, although not as pretty as her great-great-grand-something. Magic was a drug to him, even stronger than bloodlust, and this was the only place Kol could come to get his fix.

For the first time since he came back to life, he can truly say he feels like home.

"Where did you get all this stuff?" Davina asks, all wariness as she walks around observing.

"Well, I was a vampire. I could get anything I wanted, but I couldn't practice witchcraft. So I found a way. Charmed some witches and taught them a new kind of magic I learned in Arabia called Kemiya. We made items that allowed me to use magic without actually doing magic," he tells her, a bit proud of himself. It was incredibly clever, actually. His siblings never gave him due credit, always treating Kol as though he was no more than a spoiled burden to carry, a liability they had to control with silver daggers. They don't even know how many magnificent objects were created in the bowels of his hiding nook.

Davina's head snaps to him as her brows bunch together. "You taught witches how to make dark objects?"

"I most certainly did. And for a time, they were all scattered around the city, causing all sorts of trouble. Some on purpose, some not. But it was fun, indeed. I can't for the life of me find out where they are now, but... I've got the only one that matters right here."

With a spark of excitement, Kol walks over to one of the shelves and retrieves an inconspicuous-looking wooden box. It would hardly catch anyone's attention, considering the kind of flashy things he kept in there. That’s deliberate, of course. Distraction. That box contains the crown jewel of Kol’s collection, the most powerful of all objects he ever endeavored to create. It took him ages to crack this one, and it's not even the final product.

He puts the box down in front of Davina. Inside, lying on a bed of velvety cloth, is a dagger. All in gold, with a thin blade and a sharp point.

"A dagger?" she asks, not looking very convinced.

"Oh, not just any dagger. It's not about what it is, it's about what it could be. You wanna take down Klaus, right? For years, I've wanted only one thing... To drive a dagger into that bastard's heart, like he's done to me so many times."

"Those daggers don't work on Klaus."

Kol's lips curl up into a smile. "Smart girl. You're right, of course. But with a little practice, and some trust, we'll fix it so this one will." Davina's eyes widen as she finally understands where he's going with this. "We'll put Nik in a box. Seeing as he won't be entirely dead, your friends will be safe, and we'll finally have peace."

"Can we do that? I mean... Do you know how?"

Kol purses his lips, puts the dagger back down. "I know the theory. And I know I need help to make it happen. So, Davina Claire. What do you say?"

This time, she doesn't even blink. "I'm in."

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"Well, he bought it," Aiden announces as he arrives at St. Anne's, a big toothy grin gracing his face from ear to ear.

"Yay," Josh says with no enthusiasm. "Murderous witch on the way."

Aiden narrows his eyes at him, but the smile doesn't fade. "His locator spell will bring him here  _ without _ the bodyguards. He's convinced that it was one of the wolves who attacked Cami, so he doesn't trust them. How's the neck, by the way?"

Cami makes a noise that's part sigh, part moan. "Been worse."

"Sorry about that," Caroline says, sitting down next to her friend by the altar. This place still gives her the creeps. She hadn't been back here since that night. Just being close to this altar is making every hair on her body bristle furiously, but she's doing her best not to let her mind wander towards darker paths. They have a job to do. She can't afford to get distracted by old wounds. If she allows it to get to her she'll most certainly be walking out of here tonight with brand new ones.

So far, everything's going according to plan. Cami met Vincent at Preservation Hall for drinks and jazz. After a little while, she excused herself to take a call outside. She went to the back alley Marcel asked Aiden to leave open and free of wolves and, suspicious as he is, Finn followed her not two minutes later. Then it was Caroline's time to act. Wearing hoodie and too large clothes, when she sensed Finn approaching, she exchanged an apologetic look with Cami and sank her teeth into her friend's neck. Cami's scream was real enough that Finn was convinced she had really just been attacked. Before he could get to them, however, Caroline used her juiced up wolf skills to jump up to the roof of the building.

Just as he was kneeling down to check on Cami, who Caroline left bleeding on the ground, she whistled at him. Finn's dark eyes were spitting fire, she could see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to decide what to do first - give her an aneurysm, kill her or see to Camille. That gave Marcel a chance to scoop up Cami and vanish before Finn even noticed. The three of them ran off into the night and left Aiden to deal with Finn' tantrum.

His first thought was, obviously, that it had been a vampire, but Aiden offered an alternative one, citing an alleged unrest among the wolves towards management. "How would anybody know you'd be here?" he said. "I informed the inner circle, guys with rings. Not all of them were securing the perimeter. One of them could've done this to scare you. They know you like the girl."

It seems as if he's bought it, at least enough to ditch his bodyguards. If he brought reinforcements, they'd be heavily outnumbered and never have a chance. As it is, their chances are still pretty slim against a witch as powerful as him, especially since Marcel had to go and take care of other things, leaving just Caroline, Josh and Aiden to handle everything. Any tiny thing goes wrong and they're toast, but she will take her chances. In her experience - and boy, she has some -, all Mikaelsons share at least one trait in common: reckless arrogance. It leaves them with plenty of blind spots to be explored. They just need to play this right.

So far, so good.

Caroline bites on her wrist and lets her blood drip into a cup. Cami looks pale and her face is stuck on an ugly grimace, like she can't decide whether she's feeling sick or in pain or both. Caroline's work on her neck was pretty rough. Maybe she went a little overboard in trying to make it look convincing.

"Here. It's disgusting, but it'll heal fast," she says, passing the cup to Cami.

She scrunches up her nose and takes a sip, closing her eyes for a second. Almost immediately the puncture wounds on her neck begin to close and some of the color return to her face. "I always thought having a woman's mouth on my neck would be more erotic," Cami says, her voice pitched low and frail. “Somehow the blood drinking has never been a part of my fantasies.”

Caroline chuckles. "Sorry. I went a little hard on you."

"I asked you to make it convincing, didn't I?" She puts down the cup. "Tell me the plan one more time."

"Aiden is gonna get Vincent to the altar, and then I'm gonna jump him. He's powerful, though, so we only have a few seconds to get the shackles on him. And only one shot, too, probably."

"Where did Marcel go?"

"He's looking for Davina. He heard she's back in town, doesn't know how long she'll be sticking around this time."

"Overprotective dad stuff?"

"If that's how you call ripping Kol Mikaelson into a thousand little pieces, then sure, dad stuff."

Cami smiles, and it's as easy and bright as always, but Caroline can see the strain around her eyes, hear how frantic her heartbeats are growing now that she's healed. She's nervous, and trying so hard not to show, not to let it take the best of her, refusing to back down. Other people - saner people, one could argue - would've packed their things and gotten as far away from New Orleans as possible, never to return. Not only did Cami decide to stay, but she also wants to help, never shying away from a fight, even if that means getting her neck ravaged by vampire fangs.

Caroline was impressed with her resilience almost from the start, the way she handled being compelled by Klaus, how she strived through that torture session to get her memories back. Klaus used to call her the  _ brave bartender _ and it sent Caroline twisting with jealousy back in the day; if he called her that now, Caroline would scold him for not being complimentary enough. Brave doesn't even begin to cover all that she is. It makes Caroline want to protect her even more. Cami is precious and selfless and too good for this crap, and Caroline will die before she lets her friend get caught in this crossfire the way Eve did.

"All those Mikaelsons around…” Cami says around a weary exhale. “Even with all the craziness from last year, it feels like things have never been more  _ intense _ around here. That family sure is something."

"Tell me about it. I remember the mayhem in Mystic Falls when they all woke up from their slumbers, all that family drama and millennium-old disputes and the whole town right in the middle of it. <i>Fun</i> times. If you had told me back then that one day I'd be in the eye of the Mikaelson hurricane, I would've laughed and then I would've punched you."

"Not a fan of Klaus back in the day?"

“Not a fan?” Caroline sneers. “I actively tried to kill him about a gazillion times. We even threw a party once when we thought he was gone.” Cami’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. Caroline laughs at her reaction; she would’ve made the same face if someone had told her two years ago that Klaus would knock her up one day.

Her mind reels back to those ancient times, when she was still cheer captain, reigning Miss Mystic Falls, student council president Caroline, with her foolish concerns and all those fantasies about killing Klaus with fire. "Not long after she was brought back to life, Klaus' mother threw this ball, which was actually when we learned that they had a last name. Up until then we just called them Devil Spawns or variations thereof. We'd met Elijah, who was the first to show up. Then Klaus, of course, who was a nightmare and a half. And Rebekah, whose idea of fun was to ruin my perfect high school life."

Cami lets out a choked laugh. "An Original in high school? Like that phase is not hellish enough."

"Oh, mine wasn't hellish at all. It was fine. It was  _ great _ , until Rebekah, of course. She would go out of her way just to be a pain in my ass. As much as I hated Klaus, I think I hated her more. Her beef with me was personal. If you’d asked me which one of them I’d like removed from Mystic Falls forever, I would’ve probably said Rebekah if I thought I could get away with it.”

“Doesn’t that tell you something about how you never really hated Klaus all that much?” Cami asks, giving Caroline that prodding psychologist-at-work look of hers.

She rolls her eyes. “ _ Anyway _ . They sent this stupid invitation to some of us.  _ Please, join the Mikaelson Family this evening for dancing, cocktails and celebration _ . You'd think they were a  _ fun _ bunch. Esther had this crazy plan to link all her children and then sacrifice Finn, who'd always been a cuckoo and volunteered to the slaughter, so the rest of them would die as well. We were on board, because they all sucked - well, except for Elijah. We were sorry for Elijah. But to me, what she wanted to do, even if her kids were all terrible... It always felt too cold. It was... Not something any mother should ever do. It was her job to protect them, and she'd told them as much, that she wanted to have her kids around her again, be a family, all that crap. And the worst part is they fell for it. I guess they were so needy and desperate for some motherly attention they didn't see the icy disdain shining through her eyes. Seeing them all together, it... Humanized them, somehow. Realizing that Klaus actually cared for someone other than himself was a bit of a revelation."

"Let me guess. That was when you realized there was a deeply complicated and flawed person behind the mask of evil villain?"

Caroline squints her eyes at her. "No,” she drawls. “I still very much thought he was  _ just _ an evil villain. I just realized, for the first time, that he hadn't always been one. One day, many, many years ago, all of them had been... people. Not that different from us. Living their lives with hopes and dreams, making plans for their future, falling in love with the same woman..." Cami laughs and Caroline can't help the smile quirking her mouth up. "And then their parents fucked everything up. I felt bad for them. Still hated them, for sure, but... I wondered if we wouldn't all end up the same way if we'd lived to see our thousandth birthday or if we'd spent centuries running away from our own murderous, psychotic father."

Caroline pauses, letting it sink, maybe for the first time, how close to her that thought is now. Before, it had been a concern for others - Stefan or Elena, mainly. It's no longer about  _ them _ now, but about  _ me _ ; she  _ is _ one of them, with eternal life stretching out before her as far as the eye can see. Would she be like Damon in one hundred years? Like Katherine in 500? Like Klaus, after that?

Cami puts her hand on top of Caroline’s, locking their eyes together as though she knows exactly what’s going through her mind. "It will never happen to you," she says.

Her grin softens into something less ironic and more earnest. If only she could believe Camille...

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Klaus has never really seen anyone using a hunting knife with such delicate precision in a non-lethal way. To him, the fine art of wielding a upon automatically involves knowing the fastest methods to stab, skin and slay. But Ansel doesn't hold the knife like a weapon. He holds it like an instrument. As an extension of himself. Much against his will, Klaus is mesmerized as he watches the other man work on the flowers he collected, opening the petals and shaping them in the exact way Klaus remembers his mother used to when she gave it to Mikael.

Because Esther is Esther, the orchids were growing on a tree surrounded by vervain. Klaus could've still gotten them, but he would've suffered greatly. Ansel offered to retrieve it for him - and was insulted when Klaus asked what his price would be. That was the one time he saw the man losing his poise.

"Why don't you use your vampire abilities to end your doubts?" he snapped, eyes alight with anger. "Search my mind! You will see I am not aligned with your mother and want nothing more than to help you."

It was tempting, he has to say... Search his father's mind, see the truth of his intentions, and beyond. A thousand years into Ansel’s past, back when he was just a boy. It took some restraint from Klaus not to give in to his childish eagerness. "I have absolutely no interest in the inner workings of your brain," he replied instead, bitterly.

"I'm surprised at your cowardice. While you stand here in fear of me, your brother suffers further."

He pursed his lips and looked the other way. "Gather the orchids."

Ansel did. Easily. Then he led the two of them to a clearing where he lit a fire and sat down to work on the preparation. "You don't know what to do with them, do you? Then let me do this for you."

At this point, he was beyond arguing. There was no point, not when Elijah depended on it. Ansel works swiftly and with ease, like his hands still hold the muscle memory of doing this a thousand years ago. Still, it's a meticulous effort, and as much as Klaus would like to rush him, he has to say he's taking a lot more interest in watching it than he would've expected.

"I've always seen a blade to have a very different use," he muses after a while.

"Mikael taught you to kill," Ansel says, not looking up. "But you were born to create, Niklaus. I know you fancy sculpting in wood, it’s not that different. Power lies in embracing your nature."

"You think I should accept my mother's offer, sacrifice my vampirism," he says, not as a question. Ansel's silence is all the confirmation he needed. "Then what? Become a florist?"

“I like your sense of humor,” he remarks with a smile.

“Yes, I’m hilarious. Perhaps I should be a comedian.”

"You wouldn't be sacrificing anything you already have. As a wolf, you would be king to an entire species. You would find true peace. You would be a better father."

Klaus' expression tightens. "I'm no longer a father."

Ansel lets out a long sigh, as though pondering over something. He then casts his eyes away from his work, peering at Klaus with a strange kind of warmth. "You know, last night... I met the girl. The blonde one. Caroline."

"I heard," he bits out sourly.

"It was a coincidence. I was with Jackson, she needed help rescuing that wolf boy who was being held by the witches, I volunteered. I didn't immediately recognize her. She looks... Different. From Mystic Falls."

"Death will do that to you."

"She's a fighter. The way she spoke to Jackson, like he was just a boy misbehaving rather than the Crescents' alpha, calling him out on his cowardice... I was impressed."

Klaus almost can't contain the slight tug at the corner of his lips. Caroline always had a penchant for disrespecting authoritative figures - especially that of the  _ alpha male _ sort. He doesn't like the idea of her and Ansel having a chance meeting, but for some reason he is rather proud to think she's managed to impress even his real father.

"I've never had any love for vampires," Ansel continues. "But it was easy to see how she has a good heart. A kind one. This terrible thing that happened to her... It didn't touch her soul. And I could immediately understand how you, of all people, would like her so much."

"Then you could also see why I'd dismember anyone who tries to harm her," he speaks, a careful threat simmering beneath his words.

"I'd never hurt her. I'm not your mother, Niklaus. Or Mikael. I would only ever protect the things that you love." Ansel makes a pause, casting his eyes downwards, considering. Something about his stance changes, and Klaus instantly feels himself growing tense. "In our animal form, we feel everything more acutely. When you were a boy, after each full moon, I would wake closer to your village, having been drawn to you in the night. Since I've been back, each month when I turn, I wake further from New Orleans. And when I met Caroline last night, felt her scent, I finally understood. It was the call of my own blood, mixed with hers."

Even before the words leave Ansel's mouth, a cold like Klaus has never known wraps around him like a fist, fear trickling through him.

"I know your child is still alive."

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Everything goes to shit so fast they barely have any time to react.

Finn doesn't bring his wolf army with him - he really is too paranoid to trust them after what happened - but he was apparently in on Aiden as well. He went outside to wait for Finn, and the next thing they know, Aiden it sent flying across the heavy double doors into the church, crashing hard against the benches on the front row. Seeing him so easily knocked out makes Josh come out of hiding. Caroline tries to hold him back, but his despair is stronger than his logic. With a flick of his wrist, Finn snaps Josh' neck, and that’s ⅔ of their already compromised team down.

_ Fuck. _

"Camille!" Finn bellows.

Caroline takes a deep breath, bracing herself. This is it then. They can't give up now, or they'll all end up dead, so they'll have to make do with what they've got.  _ She _ will have to make do. Caroline got them all into this; now she’ll have to get them all out - or die trying.

She jumps from the second floor of the church on top of Finn, hitting him across the back and sending him to the floor. "I'm gonna enjoy kicking your ass," she grits out.

"Caroline Forbes," Finn drawls as he pulls himself up, scrunching up his face at the pain from the hard knock. "I should've known I'd be running into you. Just as rabid and out of control as my brother."

There's something about his eyes that makes Caroline snap. The way he looks at her, that fanatic, self-righteous glint that verges on madness. It's exactly like the eyes of the witches who dragged her into this very church five months ago, believing themselves beyond reproach with their honorable cause while they sacrificed a baby and her mother. It makes her see red.

With an enraged grunt, she punches Finn and then kicks him across the chest, too fast for him to react, sending crashing against the benches behind him.

"What have you done to Camille?" he asks from behind gritted teeth, trying to hide how much pain he’s really in. She must've cracked a rib, at the very least. "Mother said you were off limits, but I think she'll agree that it's for the best that you be put down." Finn puts a palm out and Caroline goes flying in the air. Goddamnit, she misses doing this to people...

There's a dull pain across her chest as she falls, but she's quick to recover, straightening up, ready to fight back.

"Vampires such as yourself die by losing their head or their heart," Finn says, his hand still stretched in front of him as he takes tentative steps closer. "Given the choice, I'm gonna take the organ that got you into this mess in the first place."

Finn closes his hand into a tight fist and Caroline feels her entire body being gripped by an invisible force, like someone threw a rope around her. She uses all of her strength to keep her stance, digging her heels so fiercely into the floor it cracks under her weight, but Finn still manages to drag her forward, closer to him, controlling her like a marionette. Finn flicks his hand down, and she feels a pull in her chest. It starts out dull, but quickly grows into a sharp twinge, a hand closed around her heart and then yanking it out. All of her struggle to wriggle out of his grip is useless as the air leaves her lungs all at once. Her eyes water, her vision blurring; she wants to scream, but all that comes out is a desperate gasp. The pain increases to point of being unbearable as her chest is ripped apart. She can see a blotch of red on the white of her shirt, a sense of helplessness crashing down on her as she realizes she's going to die.

It's like being pulled underwater, a lethargic weakness impossible to fight falling upon her and dragging her under. The sensation is all too familiar. Even through her scattered thoughts, the tragic irony of the fact does not escape her: she's going to be killed at the exact same place where she was reborn.

In the midst of all the jumble of things rushing through her skull, all Caroline can wrap her brain around is Klaus He is going to be  _ so _ mad at her when he finds out...

In some distant corner of her mind, she hears a scream, and then suddenly the excruciating force in her chest breaks. Caroline drops to her knees, taking gulping breaths, everything swimming in front of her. That first intake of air feels like having a thousand needles puncturing her lungs from the inside, the most painful relief she's ever felt. When she regains some of her focus, she sees Finn down, something that looks a lot like an arrow right under his shoulder.

He stands to his feet, and another arrow slices through the air, plunging into his calf, forcing him down once more. Caroline is still dizzy, but as she follows the line of the shot, she sees Jackson holding a bow, ready to shoot again if Finn so much as attempts to lift a hand. Relief breaks through her like a balm, all the tension in her body unknotting at once.

Finn tries to crawl away from Jackson's sight, clumsily dragging himself on the floor using just one arm. Each tiny move he makes, a whimper escapes his lips. In his moment of distraction, as he tries to save his skin, Cami comes out of the shadows and slaps the manacles around his wrists. It takes him a second to understand what’s happening, looking up at her with wide, confused eyes. He attempts to use his magic, and nothings happens. It makes Caroline's stomach churn away, how she can recognize every line of despair on his face; she knows exactly what that moment feels like, when you realize you're powerless and defeated and at someone else's mercy.

"I'm sorry," Cami says to Finn as she takes a step back, avoiding his gaze. She is really too pure for this world, feeling sorry for a guy who would've crushed her under his thumb without a second thought if he'd had the chance. Caroline was once like that, too, but not anymore. She learned the hardest possible way that some people cannot be spared, or else other people, better people, end up paying the price.

Caroline tries to stand up, to go to her friend, make sure she's ok, but her legs are still more than a little wobbly, and she has to hold on to the bench next to her not to topple again. She takes a gasping breath, putting a hand on her chest, her heart pounding manically under the wet, red spot on her white shirt. Boy, that was close...

Jackson jumps from the second floor and rushes over to her side. "Are you ok?" he asks, all concern. He touches the side of her face, his eyes searching. "You're trembling. Are you in pain?"

She shakes her head - slowly. "No, I'm fine. Just a little shaken. I'll be alright."

"Sorry I made you wait."

Caroline puffs out a breathless laugh. "Are you kidding? Your timing is pretty awesome, actually."

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When Ansel finishes working on the orchid, he makes it into a paste and then wraps it on a kerchief.

"This will help Elijah," he says, handing it over.

Klaus hasn't said anything for the past twenty minutes, but the silence was hostile enough that even Ansel remained quiet. It's useless to deny that Eve is alive when he's so certain of it. But the thought that someone outside of the family knows fills him with terror. All through that lengthy spool of quietness, he's been thinking of what the past five months of his life were like, starting with that awful night, when he lost everything.

The only thing that kept Caroline going all this time was knowing that, whatever happened to them, whatever struggles she had to endure, their daughter would be safe. Eve would not be caught in the crossfire whilst they worked to clean up the mess they made. Except now, just when the looming threat grows to impossible, unthinkable new levels, she might.

Ansel seems genuinely well-intentioned. Not even Klaus' devious, skeptical mind can find a hint of malice in the man. And yet everything inside of Klaus screams with rejection, telling him he cannot trust anyone. He might be hiding ulterior motives himself, or he might become a weapon in his mother's hands. Maybe that's why she brought him back, after all; a Trojan horse, ready to burst open with betrayal the second Klaus allows him in. Esther is cunning; soon enough she'll follow his wolf pattern to understand why he keeps waking up further away from New Orleans. And then Eve will be in danger again and everything they've done, all their monumental effort giving her up, will be for nothing.

Klaus was taught a harsh lesson five months ago. He knows what he has to do now.

"Ansel..." he starts, his voice unfamiliarly small even to his own ears. He feels like a little boy again, the child who used to hide from Mikael in the woods, praying for all the gods to save him, futilely fantasizing of what it would be like to have a different father, not knowing that his was out there somewhere, not far, leading the life Klaus had always dreamed to have while he bled at the hands of a monster. "I'd be lying if I said your offer wasn't appealing. I've never known a parent to be a benevolent force. I think I would've liked to be your son, but a different path was chosen for me, and I have, for the past one thousand years, been the son of Mikael. Paranoid, vengeful... And powerful enough to protect my daughter."

Ansel walks over to him, reaches out. This time Klaus doesn't stop him, doesn't move away. His touch is like nothing he's ever felt before, not from a parental figure. It's nurturing and tender, inexplicably reassuring. Where Esther's and Mikael's gaze had always carried such darkness, Ansel's is pure, light, filled with warmth. The eyes of a man who lives with no shame and no rancor. The man Klaus could've been, if he'd been raised by this father.

"I want to help you defend her," Ansel says, almost pleading.

Klaus feels the uncomfortable prickle of tears, a sharp ache in his chest as remorse rattles away inside in anticipation for what he’s going to do. "I believe you,” he says, and means it. “But love is what Esther twists. She will take the best of your intentions and she will use them to get to my little girl." He clasps his father's hand between his own. "You waited too long to rescue me. I cannot be saved anymore. But she can. I won’t make the same mistake with Eve."

He lets go of the other man and walks around him, taking the knife he'd been using so diligently to make the remedy that will cure Elijah. He feels its weight in his hand, the carvings on the hilt rough under his fingers.

There's only one way he knows how to use a knife. The way Mikael taught him.

"No," Ansel retorts as comprehension dawns on him. "No, Klaus. I know you. You are not capable of this."

The worst part, Klaus thinks, is that he doesn't look scared or even angry. Ansel is simply heartbroken. Disappointed. And that... That's something he knows very well. He's been a sore failure to the people he loves most for a thousand years. It seems fitting that his real father, in his final moments, would get to experience the same.

"That's the first lie you've told me."

He almost wishes Ansel would run or fight back, get taken with rage and try to hurt him. Instead, he simply waits, and when Klaus plunges the knife deep into his chest, his fingers dig into Klaus’ shirt, clawing at him. Not in despair, but in need. Klaus' heart breaks a thousand times over as he hugs Ansel, laying him down and cradling his head as that light in his eyes slowly dies.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." he mutters, his voice barely a whisper, catching behind the lump in his throat.

He never thought it would hurt so much to kill a parent.

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As soon as Caroline sets foot at the compound, she is mobbed by the Crescents occupying some of their empty rooms. The characteristic scent of death - blood with a sweet dash of fear - does not escape their potent noses.

They shower her with questions: "Are you ok? What happened? Did you get attacked? Was it one of ours?" She is desperate to check up on Elijah and peel off those soiled clothes off her, but their concern is endearing, even flattering, that they would care this much, so she takes a moment to calm them all down. "It's just a scratch, guys. Nothing major. I'm fine. Really."

She knows she's not really convincing anyone - they're all grown werewolves, well-versed in the ways of New Orleans. They know near death experiences when they smell it on someone else. The blood stain on her shirt is very telling as well, right over her heart. But she's alive anyway, and so they allow themselves to be comforted when she guarantees it wasn't wolf trouble, not this time. "It's a good thing," she reassures them with her best Miss Mystic smile. "Promise. You'll find out soon enough."

The fuss makes her realize she probably looks the worse for wear than she imagined, though. Which in turn tells her she needs to clean up and change before Klaus gets a whiff of her. She can just about picture the tantrum and a half he'll throw. Even if deep down he would  _ maybe _ have a tiny crumb of reason to be mad at her for, you know, throwing herself willingly into death’s arms, he would  _ definitely _ turn it into something else, blow it way out of proportion, and then  _ she _ would be the one getting all riled up and angry. Next thing they know, they're in an epic fight.

Marcel is probably on his way to the compound and he comes bearing  _ gifts _ , plural. Getting in a heated argument with Klaus now would only take away from that. Theirs was a rough day, but it had a happy ending, and, frankly, they could use some good news around here. A couple of merciful, strategic omissions can't hurt anyone.

Before she heads to a much-needed hot shower, she stops by Elijah's bedroom, only to find that someone's beaten her to it. Klaus is already back, and he's sitting by his brother's side, spreading some kind of ointment over that rash mark on his collarbone with all the care in the world, so concentrated he doesn't even notice her there.

Caroline takes a quiet step back, not wanting to intrude. Elijah trembles, whether in cold or due to something in his nightmares, she doesn't know. But Klaus touches his forehead, calming him down, and then goes back to applying the medicine. It's kind of mesmerizing, really, Klaus Mikaelson gently and thoughtfully caring for someone, so taken with worry.

"We were innocent once, Elijah," Klaus starts talking. Caroline  _ knows _ it's wrong for her to be there; she should turn around and give them privacy, but she can't really help it. The way Klaus speaks, so gentle, tenderness bleeding into his voice... She's seen the softer side of Klaus, but this is different.

Caroline has often wondered why Elijah would stick around, watching after his little brother as diligently as he does, when Klaus seems to give so little back. He's demanding, controlling, even cruel to Elijah, who has the patience of a saint when it comes to his family. But she realizes now that just because she hadn't seen it, it doesn't mean Klaus' love for his siblings isn't there. It's maybe buried a little bit deeper, and he can certainly spin it in vicious ways, but it's as living and breathing as what they feel for him. That unconditional devotion that seems to bind the Mikaelsons is as strange and inexplicable as it is enthralling. They would stab each other to death just as easily as they'd walk through hell fire for one another.

It reminds her of when she first saw their family all reunited at that ball, before they learned of Esther's true intentions. She remembers the proud way Elijah invited everyone to join them in a toast, a giddy kind of excitement in his voice that, Caroline now knows, is not something you see every day. Even Klaus was different. Sending her gifts, showing her his art... Like for the first time in God knows how many years he had allowed himself a reprieve from all the world domination plans to think of something else, something as basic and mundane as a pursuing a  _ crush _ . All because he had his family back.

Caroline wishes Elijah could see this.

"This bloodlust was forced upon us by our parents, turning us from prey to predator," he continues, smoothing the paste into a thin layer over Elijah's skin, stopping every time the shudders get rougher and waiting until he's calm again before continuing. "We are the demons lurking in the shadows. We are the savage villains in fairy tales told to children. But not for my child. Not for Eve. In her story, we are the knights in shining armor. Without you by my side, I don't think I can survive my own love for my daughter, how much I want to protect her and her mother. I don't know how to handle this. I need you, brother." Klaus leans over Elijah, touching his brother's cheek. "The monster in me can only be checked by the monster in you. Only together can we defeat our demons and save our family. Come back, Elijah. Come back to us."

Caroline’s heart swells in her chest, tears brimming in her eyes. She wants to rush inside the room and hug Klaus in the same measure she wants to disappear into a hole and pretend she never heard any of this, awash with guilt for eavesdropping on such a deeply intimate moment that does not concern her. This is between them, brothers.

Light on her feet, Caroline prowls down the hall and into her room, shutting the door behind her as softly as she can, hoping to God that Elijah wakes up.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

She's brushing her hair when she sees Klaus standing behind her through her dresser's mirror. She cracks a smile, about to make a throwaway comment about him not knocking anymore and her being a lady when she notices the look on his face. He seems... Distraught.

Caroline puts her brush down, shifting around on her seat. "What is it?" she asks, her heart skipping a beat as she fears for the worst. "Is Elijah ok?"

Klaus casts his gaze down and she notices he's holding something, gripping it tightly in his hand. A little leather-bound book, not unlike some of the grimoires he keeps in his library, but not one she immediately recognizes.

There's a look on his face Caroline can't really identify, but his eyes are distant and unfocused. She waits for him to blink off some of that daze.

"Elijah is recovering," he says.

That's good. Right?" When he doesn't reply, Caroline stands to her feet, approaching him. "Klaus," she prods, softly. "What's wrong?"

He parts his lips as though trying to conjure up the words, but doesn't quite know how to. The crease in Caroline's brow deepens. Klaus, bereft of words? If that's not a sign of the end of times, she doesn't know what is.

"I spent the day with my father. My real father. Esther brought him back from the dead believing he could convince me to renounce vampirism."

"Wait... Your  _ real _ , real father? The werewolf?"

He nods almost imperceptibly, his jaw clenching before he looks up at her. "I believe you met him. Ansel."

Caroline's face falls. Her mouth opens and closes with no sound as she tries to work past the shock. "... What? Ansel? The bow and arrow guy? Jackson's friend, Ansel? He's..." Klaus looks away again, his throat moving slowly as he swallows, his face stricken with an emotion she can't name. "Oh my God."

Caroline sits back down on her bench. So much makes sense all of a sudden. He seemed  _ so _ familiar, and yet she just couldn't pinpoint why. She kept thinking he had to have been lurking around the camp back when she stayed with the Crescents, but now that she knows... How did she not see it? His eyes are exactly like Klaus’ - like her  _ daughter’s _ \- and the way he held himself... It's such an absurd idea it would've never occurred to her, not in a million years.

"The thought of what I could be had I been raised by him... I would've been cared for, nurtured..." Klaus says after a moment, his voice fraying around the edges. She can feel the resentment underlying it. "This was his."

He hands the book over to her, facing away as though he can't even bear to look at it. She takes it, flipping through the pages carefully. It's not a grimoire, but a journal, written in a language she obviously can't understand. But then she comes upon a page with a sketch. A little boy with huge, round eyes, chubby cheeks and a bird necklace around his neck that she's seen before.

She gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh my God... Is this...?"

The devastation in Klaus' eyes tears at Caroline's heart. His face is wrought with pain. She looks down at the drawing again, fingers hovering delicately over this picture of a thousand years ago, probably the only existing evidence of what Klaus looked like as a child. It's so vivid... His eyes are big and bright and  _ so _ much like Eve's it hurts to look at it.

The things about Klaus that Mikael always loathed, the talent and sensibility he tried to beat out of him through sheer cruelty, his passion for art... It wasn't a deviation; it was inherited from his father.

"He knew about Eve." Caroline's head jerks up like a thunder "And I wanted to trust him. More than anything in this world, I wanted to believe, but... After last spring... I couldn't be sure. And I would never forgive myself if something happened to her because of my selfish desire for a father."

Fear flashes through Caroline, pooling down at the base of her spine. She puts the journal down, stands to her feet. "Klaus... What did you do?"

He is quiet for a moment, and when he speaks, there's a steely edge to his voice. "I killed him. Without hesitation, I killed him."

Caroline's heart sinks so fast she feels sick. Klaus looks up at her, his chin jutted forward like he expects her to slam him for it, yell at him, tell him the monster that he is. The knot in her chest is painful, and there's a part of her that truly is horrified. Ansel, the guy who helped her rescue Oliver, who risked his life so she could walk out of the cemetery. The man who nursed Jackson back to health. Dead. And by the hands of the little boy he drew so lovingly...

But she can see right through the defiance in Klaus' posture, past the resolve on his lips and clenched jaw. He's not the charming, arrogant Original who waltzes across the world as though he's got it laid at his feet. Not the terrifying, brutal hybrid either. This is a different Klaus, one she doesn't think she's ever seen before. Caroline realizes with sudden clarity that the thing she could not identify before is grief. Heart-wrenching, excruciating grief. Killing his own father broke him. Klaus' eyes are brimming with remorse, over bright with the tears he's trying so hard to hold back, and Caroline doesn't have it in her to give him the punishment he expects to receive. The punishment he so clearly thinks he deserves.

Mikael has been the source of all of Klaus' worst traumas, the rot at the core of his soul. For a thousand years he's been running from the shadow of a parent who never loved him, who only ever showed him violence and contempt, dreaming of what his life would've been like if Esther had allowed him to be raised by his real father. He must've thought of Ansel so much since he learned of her pregnancy. And when he was finally given the chance to know this man who populated so many of his thoughts and dreams...

What happened to Caroline last spring has left a mark in everyone in this family. Klaus has a hard time trusting anyone on his best days, but now... He couldn't even trust his own father. Ansel didn't strike Caroline as dangerous. A little stiff, slightly arrogant, definitely intense, but not... Bad. Not deceiving. Klaus must've felt the same way about him, and yet... To protect Eve, he killed him. Didn’t even think twice.

She walks over to him, touches his face. "I'm so sorry," she says, barely a whisper, before pulling him into her arms. He goes easily, burying his face into her neck, clinging to her like his life hangs on it. She mashes her eyes shut, trying to fight back her own tears because she's not the one who needs to cry right now. Klaus doesn't quake, doesn't sob, barely makes a sound, but she can feel the wet warmth on her skin, can sense the tiny hitches in his breath.

Caroline hugs him tightly, one of her hands running up and down his back into a tender caress, the other resting gently at the nape of his neck. She lets him stay like this for as long as he has to, until he's ready to face the world again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah's drained two blood bags already and he could certainly do with more. Normally that wouldn't be cause for concern; he can handle his own hunger, and there's a container downstairs with enough to satiate him. The problem...

The problem are those damned werewolves and their lively, beating hearts, drumming away even as they sleep, pumping blood through their veins like a song.

Elijah hasn't felt this way about  _ food _ in so long he can't even remember. He can feel all the dents in his composure, the fatal flaws in his restraint, and it is driving him crazy. Even as he stands here, washed clean of the fever and awake, he's not fully in control of himself, toeing dangerously over the precipice of monstrosity. The flimsiest of slips, and he will have relinquished to the whims of his beast, roaring inside of him with a fire it hasn't had in centuries.

It's not only unnerving, it's also pathetic. A creature as ancient as him shouldn't fall so easily for the mind tricks of a witch, no matter how powerful - or how familiar.

He shall have to take a page off Niklaus' book tonight and drink himself into stupor. Blood and alcohol should do the trick to keep his spirit sated.

Even though it's rather late and Elijah does not plan on setting foot outside the compound's doors, he puts on one of his finest suits, an impeccable knot on his tie, pocket scarf fixed faultlessly. He needs to see these perfect straight lines. It comforts him, grants him a measure of recognition. This is the man he is, the man he's willed himself to be. Doesn't matter what kinds of memories his mother unearths from the most wretched depths of his mind; Elijah's better than that. He has to be. Otherwise...

Otherwise he's every bit the monster Esther thinks of him. Otherwise, she's right. She's been right all along.

Ever since he woke up, he keeps having these flashes... He gets lost in them, his mind traveling into the distance, through the years. It's hard to tell what is dream and what is real. He feels airy, drained away, like he's still sleeping, trapped in those woods, running away from himself. He remembers hearing Niklaus' voice calling out to him, seeing his face, his brother shining in the darkness like a beacon. But the fear... The shame... Wakefulness hasn't wiped it away.

He wonders if it ever will, in light of what he now knows.

As he fixes his cufflinks, Elijah sees his own hands covered in blood. He blinks, and Tatia's face is before him, the horror in her eyes as she screams, the red door closing behind her as his mother drags her lifeless body inside. Elijah closes his eyes, takes a slow, measured breath, forcing the memories away, but when he opens them again, he can still taste her in his mouth, hear her final, breathless gasps as the light dims into blackness in those beautiful eyes of hers...

He feels a shaking that starts in his chest and radiates forward until his hands are trembling. He holds on to the mantelpiece for support, raking a hand through his hair.

"How do you feel?"

In a flash, he stands up straight again, schooling his face into as much normalcy as he can muster when his brother appears at his door. He turns around, pulling on his cuffs for something to do with his hands. "The worst has passed," he says, and the steadiness in his voice surprises even him. "Though I suspect the nightmares are far from over."

"Well, gather your strength. After the message I sent mother tonight, I expect hellfire to rain down upon us imminently."

Niklaus seems... Haunted, he'd say. Something tells Elijah that his ordeal is not the only thing weighting on his brother's conscience. "We need to make a move before she strikes," he advises, more determined than ever to put an end to this mess, lest Esther puts anyone else through the same thing she's put him.

"Actually, moves were made while you were sleeping."

Both he and Niklaus whip around to see Marcel and Caroline, standing side by side with the same triumphant look about their faces. The second he lays eyes on her, though, Elijah feels the sting of a memory again - this time, she's the one running away from him, terrified, clawing at the red door. He grabs her without a shred of mercy, and even as she begs, he pulls at her hair, exposing the long line of her neck, and bites her. He blinks, and the image is gone. This one's not real, at least, but it might as well be. As real as the next thing to pop in his mind. The dream his mother gave him, of Caroline rescuing him at the tomb, and then she - and the two of them -

Elijah looks away from the affable -  _ innocent _ , he reminds himself - smile she offers him. Guilt trickles through him as the feel of her body flush against his and the taste of her lips hits with full force. He can't possibly know what any of that truly feels like, his mind cannot have conjured an honest illusion, and yet somehow...

Blushing is absolutely beneath him.

"It's good to see you vertical," she says, a little awkward. "Marcel and I have left a gift to each of you down in the ballroom." Niklaus frowns at her, but she merely shrugs. "You're welcome."

Niklaus casts a glance at him before walking out, and he follows. Marcel smirks as he does, a bit too proud of himself. Elijah picks up his pace, curious as to what they could possibly have done, glad to be out of the room, to put some distance between himself and Caroline. He might need a minute to recover.

When they enter the ballroom, he has to say, though... Those two have genuinely colored him surprised. He would've never guessed - and is kind of confused as to how they managed, because it is... Truly remarkable.

Finn, looking rather forlorn, is cuffed to the railings of the stairs on one side of the room. Judging by his subservience, that's probably one of those magic-binding manacles. On the opposite side of him is a young man, shackled just the same. Elijah doesn't think he's ever seen him before, but the annoyed lines of his expression and that wicked glint in his eyes are unmistakable.

_ Kol _ .

"Kidnapping," he spits out. He’s kept the accent, it seems. "It's a rather unpleasant way to begin a family reunion, don't you think?"

Niklaus beams, the despondency of a moment before giving way to sheer joy. "Well, wait until you see how we end it."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you still with me? Thanks for making it this far, if you are! ❤


	8. S02E08 The Brothers that Care Forgot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I mentioned at the beginning that I was going to twist up the show's mythology? Well, this is it. It'll get more complicated and also better explained in a bit, but this is where I take it and run with it. Bear with me, ok?

* * *

There's about a million different things Caroline expects to find in the ballroom when she goes down in the morning, all of which range from mildly upsetting to straight-out horrifying. Her imagination runs wild with possibilities, and her stomach is raked with nausea in anticipation.

What she does find, however, gives her a second's pause.

No blood. No carnage. No severed limbs. No torture instruments lying about, soaked in red. Not even two sullen, miserable witches, hanging in defeat after a whole night chained to the railings in the most uncomfortable position Marcel could think of.

What awaits her in the ballroom is a beautiful breakfast table. Someone even lit up the chandelier. In the dead of night, Klaus had some poor soul prepare all this, and considering she just delivered two of the highest-ranking people on his current Most Wanted list, and the mood he was in... She can't help but wonder what kind of wicked game he's playing at here.

But,  _ God _ , the beignets smell  _ delicious _ ...

She approaches the table, inspecting all the delicacies at her disposal, wondering how likely vampires are to get poisoned in case Klaus sprinkled arsenic all over the food, when Elijah walks in. He is trim and fresh in a neat dark grey suit, like he's heading to a fancy dinner, not a casual breakfast at home with his family.

Elijah spent three days either missing or bed-ridden, but it feels like forever. Maybe because it had been ages since the two of them last had a conversation that wasn't snippy and full of thorns. For weeks, they barely saw each other, like they didn't even live in the same house anymore, and when they did it was... Unpleasant, to say the least. Going from not being around Elijah to seeing him fall desperately ill after enduring who-knows-what kind of torture at his mother’s hands hurt Caroline in ways she can't even describe. It put this awful taste in her mouth, how worried she was, and the idea that the last words she had exchanged with him were some petty silliness she didn't even mean. Seeing him now, back in his full suited glory, she comes to the inevitable realization that, while she spent a great deal of time resenting him for being mad at her, she missed him  _ so _ much.

Elijah became such a big part of her life. This solid, constant presence she knew she could rely on at any time, for anything. Not having him around anymore feels... Incomplete. He’s family.

Caroline had hoped that, after everything, once he was back on his feet, things between them might just slide back into old normalcy, but the second she meets his eyes, she realizes her hopes were in vain. Elijah stops dead on his tracks, every line of his perfect posture indicating an awkwardness that Caroline cannot, for the love of everything holy and sacred, explain.

Had she really been so off the rails that Elijah can barely look at her now?

"Good morning," she ventures.

Elijah hesitates, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably in his suit. He approaches the table in tentative steps, gaze deliberately flickering away from her. "Morning," he says, all diffident politeness.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better. Thank you."

Caroline grins shortly at him, a strained quirk of her lips that does not meet the level of relief and joy she feels over getting him back. This is all so  _ wrong _ .

She cracks under the awkwardness, puffing out in frustration. Somebody is gonna have to be the bigger person here, bridge the gap and make amends. And since Elijah just came out of an Esther-induced coma, Caroline is willing to cut him some slack.

"You know, my best pals for the past few days have been Marcel and Aiden," she blurts out, annoyance bleeding into her voice. "And in a completely unexpected turn of events, I might actually like them. But they cannot occupy the space you left."

Elijah looks up at her, his forehead creased in confusion.

"Elijah..." she starts again. "I know you've been critical of my... Behavior. And I'm ready to concede that you had  _ some _ reason. I was kind of spiraling and I didn't exactly have the healthiest of coping mechanisms. I'm not proud, all right? I went off and did some really nasty stuff, but considering everything that happened to me -"

"You're right," he cuts her off. "I was too hasty to judge, and I've no right to do so. Nothing you ever did or could ever do would come near the atrocities and monstrous acts I have committed myself. I'm the last person who can cast any judgement upon you and I apologize sincerely, Caroline, if I ever made you feel ashamed. I was wrong. Forgive me."

Caroline blinks. Well, that was unexpected. Suddenly, she's left unsure of what to say.

"Well... You don't have to apologize. I mean... It was some weird times for all of us. And I'm pretty sure you're not the  _ last _ person who can cast judgement. Klaus is the proud owner of that spot on the list." Elijah smiles, but it does not meet the darkness in his eyes. "Are you still mad at me?"

"No. Not at all. I just... Didn't want you to lose yourself to the carnage and the bloodlust. I don't want you to become like us. You're better than that. Better than us."

"I'm getting the hang of things," she shrugs lightly. "It's not  _ perfect _ , not yet, but... I'm getting there."

"I never should’ve doubted that you would.”

"So... Can't we just put all this behind us and... be friends again?" Caroline pleads in a tone of voice that, despite being gentle, makes it very clear she doesn't expect to hear a  _ no _ .

Elijah arches his eyebrows at her, the corner of his lips twisting upwards like he can't help it, a familiar kind of warmth finally creeping into his eyes. Some of that tension seems to bleed out of him as the thunderclouds above his head break. "Of course."

Caroline beams, relieved. "Thank you! I'm really glad to see you're ok. I was  _ so _ freaking worried about you. You know, you and Klaus are on a freaking roll and you're not allowed to, ok? You can't put yourselves in danger like this because I am the baby vampire here with all the messy emotions and I am  _ not _ equipped to handle that." The smile on his face doesn't waver, but it turns awkward all of a sudden as he casts his eyes down to the table, fetching himself a grape. Too soon, then. Better to give him time to process before addressing whatever it is that his mother did to him. "So... What's the occasion?" she continues, steering the conversation away towards less complicated matters. "Are we celebrating something?"

"A family reunion, of course!" comes the jubilant rejoinder as Klaus breezes in rubbing his palms together like he can barely contain his excitement. "We shall have a lovely breakfast with our brothers."

Caroline cocks him an eyebrow. "You want to have  _ breakfast _ with your brothers? The ones Marcel and I brought to you as  _ prisoners _ ? Handcuffed and everything."

"But of course. We're not barbarians. We're a family, and not without mercy. I want to show them that we can be a family again, provided they ditch our mother and join our side."

"Huh," Caroline hums thoroughly unconvinced, then turns to Elijah. "Someone's skipped his meds this morning." Elijah smiles. Klaus shakes his head and chooses to ignore the obvious jab.

"Are you joining us?" he asks, pointing towards one of the chairs.

"Your happy family time? God, no." She paws one of the beignets, taking a huge bite and sprinkling powdered sugar all over her clothes. "Hmmmm... Do you mind if I take some of these?" she asks around a mouthful, already gathering some in a napkin.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Jackson called. Aiden is flipping out and he wants some backup."

"And he needs your backup, does he? Is there a particular reason for that?" Klaus asks, eyes slitted as the humor bleeds from his expression.

"Hmm, I don't know. It might be because his best friend and former right-hand man is dead and everyone else is working for your mother and he could use someone else who hates that bitch - no offense."

"Absolutely none taken," Elijah replies.

"Not to brag, but I can make a pretty convincing case against her,” she finishes, tying a knot on the napkin to make a little package. She's stolen like half the beignets, but she's not really sorry. Klaus can snap his fingers and have someone go out and fetch him more and, besides, it's not like Finn or Kol even deserve to be allowed to touch these precious pieces of heaven with a mountain of dusty sugar on top. Klaus should put the plate in front of their noses and never allow them a taste of it. There's a torture mechanism she can vouch for right there.

"I still don't see the point," Klaus says, grouchy.

"You wanted me to take care of the werewolves, didn't you? This is me doing that. And before you say anything, I'm actually kicking ass at it, so don't complain. Thanks for the beignets. Also maybe tone it down a little on the excitement over the prospect of threatening and possibly inflicting pain over your own siblings. Probably not very polite. And try not to spill blood all over the room, ok? We’re spending way too much on bleach. Good luck!"

She smiles brightly at the two of them and then waltzes to the French doors into the courtyard with a skip on her step. These pastries are really something.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Niklaus pouts and whines about the unpalatable return of, in his own words,  _ the world's most undesirable person _ \- meaning not Mikael, or Esther, or even his real father, Ansel, whom he apparently murdered in his endeavor to find the cure to Elijah's ailment, but Jackson Kenner - for excruciatingly long minutes after Caroline leaves in the same breath as he directs the staff of the day towards setting the table for breakfast.

"More fruits, please. And fresh orange juice, this has gone stale. Throw it out, serve it to the campers outside, I don't care. Make sure the coffee is ready in ten minutes, will you, sweetheart? And send someone out to get me some more beignets from Café du Monde. Apparently, I'm also supposed to be feeding the scoundrels in the Bayou now. That man thinks I don't see what he's doing, but I have got him fully mapped out. If he thinks he's going to walk right back into Caroline's good graces - excuse me, love, are you deaf? I said  _ orange _ . Do you know what an orange is? Good. Then see to it, or I might find myself in the mood for something with a little more substance."

"Niklaus," he drawls around a pained sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I beseech you, brother, can you just... Not?"

The second their brothers are brought over from the depressing temporary quarters in the dungeons where they spent the night mulling over the errors of their ways, each in a separate cell, Niklaus' mood changes from bitter water to the sweetest of wines. He falls instantly into his finest partisan mode. Elijah would be prouder, for certain, if he were himself in a sharper state of mind. As it is, he's just glad that at least one of them seems to have his eyes set on the prize. While this would usually be his part to play, given the circumstances, he really cannot find a single diplomatic thread inside of him. Not when all he wants is to squeeze the life out of those two traitors with his bare hands. It would be a suitable message to his mother, he thinks, a denial of all her offers and bargains written in deep Mikaelson red. The only kind she knows how to interpret, it seems.

"Today, a new future awaits," Niklaus speaks from his spot at the head of the table, gesticulating like a true politician, while Kol and Finn cast their suspicious eyes at him. Finn's contempt is barely veiled, but Kol seems... Pliant, so to speak. Then again, he always was one to go with the winning tide. Would've sold them all out to Mikael if that would've bought his own freedom, Elijah reckons. Right now, he has no warm feelings towards siblings whose affections are this interchangeable, but he can appreciate the whiff of opportunity. For the time being, anyway. "Forget your animosity towards Elijah and myself and instead join us against she, who truly deserves your ire... Our mother. Do this, and we will welcome you with open arms."

"Well..." Kol starts, reaching for the beignets, but Elijah pulls it back so he can't take it. He's always had a sweet tooth, and Elijah feels just testy enough that he'll deny it to him out of pure spite.

"But," Niklaus continues, amused by Elijah's pettiness. "If you continue to oppose us, a denial of pastries will be the last of your concerns."

"If all you wanted was my allegiance against mother dearest, you should've just said so. Save me a night shackled to the wall," Kol grumbles.

"This was Niklaus," Elijah says. "My recommendation was to remove your limbs one by one until you comply."

Klaus laughs. "We've no desire to torture you," he tells their brothers. "Provided you vow to stand beside us, as brothers."

"Brothers," Finn sneers. "Does that word even apply to us after all these centuries of betrayals? And is loyalty to you ever really rewarded? If so, tell me, Niklaus... Where is our sister? She was blindly loyal to you for a thousand years and now she's nowhere to be found. Where did our sister go? And how did she escape your vile machinations?"

Elijah feels a spike of anger clawing at his insides at the mention of Rebekah.

"You think me vile?" Klaus asks, eyebrows arched, not allowing Finn’s provocation to rattle him. "What, then, do you make of the one who cursed us?"

"She was trying to make you mortal again, and you both refused her," Finn snaps, always quick to defend their mother's honor. "It only proves how far you've fallen, but I expect Rebekah will have a different response to her proposal. See, unlike the two of you, she always did cling to her humanity."

Elijah points a butter knife he hadn't even realized he'd wrapped his fingers tightly around at his older brother, glowering. "Rebekah's off limits to you. Pursue her, and you will suffer."

"Do not let him goad you, Elijah," Klaus speaks in a pacifying manner. "Neither he nor Esther will find Rebekah unless she wants to be found and she does not."

"Esther is quite determined. She's been searching for Rebekah since the day she returned. I imagine it's only a matter of time."

Elijah feels something feral inside of him snapping at his brother's haughty confidence, and before he even registers what he's doing, he's lunging across the table and pulling Finn over by the collar of his shirt. He swipes him over the table, and sinks his teeth right into his brother’s neck.

They have no idea how desperate Elijah was to kill something.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus shoves his brother - his temperate and reasonable older brother - against a wall after extricating him off Finn's neck without causing any long-term damages and dragging him outside. Since when did he become the level-headed person in this family? If they're going to depend on his volatile temper to get anything done around here, they're more than doomed.

"I enjoy a good bloodletting as much as anyone," he scolds, offering Elijah a napkin so he can clear the blood tinging the corners of his lips. It's so unbecoming on him. "But our brothers have power, as well as knowledge of Esther's plans. We need them alive."

"Can you imagine what they would do to Rebekah? To Eve?"

"Rebekah has been cloaked by powerful magic. Focus on the task at hand. We need to persuade them to join our side."

"I'm through with persuasion." Elijah pushes him out of the way, ready to march back to the ballroom and wreak havoc, but Klaus holds him by the scruff of his neck and spins him back.

Despite the urgency of the matter, he has to say he's very much impressed by this unexpected change in perspective. A smile breaks onto his lips. "Has the earth shifted on its axis? You, needing restraint from me?"

Elijah's phone rings, and before he's even uttered a hello, Rebekah's shrill voice is already off on the other end. "It's me. I have the baby and we're on the run. Esther found us."

Klaus feels an ice-cold rush down his spine, Elijah's  _ I told you so _ glare tying a knot in his chest.

"We're safe for now," Rebekah continues. "I've lost her bloody Stallings, but I have no idea where to go."

"Tell her to go west," Klaus says, urgency creeping onto his tone. "I'll call Caroline."

"No! Do not call Caroline!" Rebekah objects. "She's going to freak out and Esther's too smart. The only advantage we have is that she thinks the baby died. I'm getting in my car, text me with plans."

Elijah hangs up, points a finger at him. "Go. I'll take care of Kol and Finn."

"Oh, splendid. And in your hands, I assume they'll be dead by nightfall."

"I will show as much restraint as I have to, Niklaus - Eve needs her father."

"What she needs - What... What  _ we _ need," he stammers, trying to think clearly over the thread of anxiety uncurling inside of him. He can hardly hear himself thinking over the sound of his pounding heart, but Rebekah's not wrong. Despair is the last thing they need right now. As long as his mother believes Rebekah's merely wandering about on her own, they have time. He needs to curb his primal instincts and act with logic, strategy, reason. That's the only way they'll beat their ominous enemy. He stops, takes a breath. "We need allies to help us defeat our mother. Caroline is handling the werewolves; we need to handle our family. Finn and Kol must be turned to our side. Without their help, we can't take her down, and if we can't take her down, there will be nowhere left for Eve to run."

"Niklaus, your child -"

"I have waited months to see my daughter. I can wait one more day." He swallows past the ashes in his mouth, ignoring the flutter of fear spiking all across his body.

Every ounce of Klaus' being is screaming for him to call Caroline and go to Eve, but that's the father inside of him taking over, this still unweathered part that remains a mystery almost six months after his daughter was born. What he needs to listen to is his gut instinct, the same one that told him the right thing to do was to send her away and keep her alive against his own heart's desire. And right now, what his gut tells him is that being a good father is to stay here and finish what he started. Elijah's hardly in his right mind, but if there's one person Klaus would trust with his life, with everything that matters in this world to him, it's his brother. He'll protect Eve as well as he would. For now, that's all he needs.

Unconvinced but resigned, Elijah nods stiffly and walks by him. Klaus calls out to his brother before he leaves the compound. "Do whatever it takes to keep her safe," he begs.

"I give you my word." When his brother meets his gaze, what Klaus sees is not the unhinged person who just snapped at Finn's mild provocation, but the man he's known for a thousand years. The one who's never broken a promise.

Klaus lets out a relieved gust of air, combing a hand through his hair as he quiets down his riotous heart before returning to business.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"The wolves are freaking out," Aiden says, pacing frantically. Not even the beignets - which Caroline mostly ate on her own, as the powdered sugar on her clothes evidence - were enough to calm him down. "They know it has to be an insider who took down Vincent last night, seeing as no one could have been anywhere near him."

"Anybody suspect it was you?" Jackson asks.

"No, not yet. But after the children rescue, how I let you and Oliver walk," he motions towards Caroline, "and now this, they're going to figure it out, which pretty much means I'm screwed unless we come up with a plan."

"Call a meeting," Caroline suggests. "The whole pack. If they're so scared, now's the perfect time to convince them to ditch Esther. They should know that she's the one instilling this violence and suspicion among your people."

"She gave them moonlight rings," Aiden retorts, showing her the damn black kyanite on his finger.

"Well, those rings have come with a price. They've made you her slaves."

"No, they made us powerful," he objects incisively. "We were exiles before, but now we run the city. The vampires are scared of us and no one, including me, is just gonna walk away from it because -"

"Set the damn meeting," Jackson slams, staring Aiden down and putting an end to discussions before he walks away.

Aiden makes a face, pursing his lips in a manner that makes it very clear he didn't come here to be shut down without a compelling argument, and then leaves. With Oliver gone, he's kind of become Jackson's second-in-command. The problem is he lacks Oliver's  _ oomph _ . As afraid for his own skin as he was of being exposed as a double agent, Ollie had this thing about wanting to change the world. If he thought he was making a difference, he'd jump right into it, even if - as it became obvious -  _ it _ meant betraying his entire pack.

Aiden is younger, greener and, as good as his people skills are - even at interspecies relations, if the vibe Caroline got off him and Josh is right - he's way too terrified of losing control. And Jackson is not exactly being helpful right now. He can't expect Aiden to just  _ be _ Oliver. He needs to teach him, mentor him, not just literally throw him to the wolves and expect him to react.

Besides, Aiden's not wrong; those rings may be everything Esther has on them, but it is  _ a lot _ . Oliver threw away his whole life for one of those. If they don't find a way to neutralize the alluring power those things have over the wolves, they'll never win them over. And treating Aiden like that is definitely not going to rally anyone around Jackson. He  _ needs _ Aiden's support if he is to get to the others' hearts.

Maybe Caroline should just send Cami out here to the Bayou, get Jackson some much needed couch time so he can work out this anger at the world at large he has brewing inside of him. She's barely found enough balance to work through her own issues, and she lives with a bunch of unhinged Mikaelsons. Hardly the harmony and stability poster girl they need out here.

She finds Jackson back at his cabin by the river, cracking open what Caroline doubts is his first can of beer of the day. Practicalities aside, she's also worried about him. He wants so bad to make up for the lost time, to be here for his people and show them they can trust him again, but he's a mess. Awash with guilt for what happened to the pack, to Oliver, to Ansel, feeling sorry for himself, and so, so very angry... His heart is still in the right place, as it has always been, but it pains her to see Jackson so down. A shadow of the man she met all those months ago, full of plans and life and ready to fight for his pack, come what may.

No one walked out unscathed of that awful night five months ago, not even the most sane and down to earth person Caroline has ever met. There was mind-fuckery for everyone.

"So," she starts, joining him. "Are you gonna work on a rousing speech or just get day drunk?"

"Little bit of both," he replies flatly.

She takes the beer away from him, not hiding the reproach from her expression. "Jack, it's 10am."

"So? Do you tell that to Klaus when he pops the bourbon open for breakfast?"

She lifts her eyebrows at him, cocking her head. "You want to compare yourself to Klaus now?"

He grunts, leaning back against the cabin's wall. "I never want to compare myself to that jerk. You know, for months I wrote down every single word Ansel said, the entire history of our people. If only I'd known he was Klaus' father, I would've asked him a hell of a lot more."

And then there’s that, too… He isn’t just mourning the loss of Oliver. Caroline had to break it to him what happened to his beloved mentor. Ansel was the only good thing to come out of the past five months of Jackson's life. They forged a really strong bond in a very short time and he was beyond heartbroken, as Caroline knew he would be. Inconsolable, really. The only reason he wasn't angrier at Klaus was because Caroline made it clear to him that Ansel had been a part of Esther's plot to get to her children from the beginning.

"He was a good man, Caroline!" he yelled. "He told me about his son, I didn't know it was Klaus. He was so proud of him! I never heard anyone talk about that heartless ass the way Ansel did, not even you, and that son of a bitch killed him!"

"Hey," she scolded. "I know you're angry, and it's alright to be angry. Ansel was your friend, but he was also Esther's lover and he had bad blood with that family long before you and I were even born. So, don’t be so quick to judge. Klaus spent a thousand years with that man’s ghost looming over him, you don’t know what it cost him to kill him. None of us do."

Caroline never thought she'd see the day when she would be defending Klaus' murderous instincts. She's certain if Jackson knew  _ why _ Klaus felt compelled to kill his own father he would understand, but as it is, she just needs him to accept that the ties that bind all of them are way more complicated than he could ever imagine.

Now without his mentor, Jackson feel even more at loss than before. His father died when he was really young, and then he spent most of his life trapped in wolf form. Ansel was like an adopted father figure for him, everything he always imagined a true leader should be. He thought of his time away from civilization as some sort of wolfish retreat, where he would learn the true ways of the pack and come back filled with wisdom and traditions long forgotten and  _ answers _ , ready to save everyone from the dark pits of witchy control. As it is, it's up to Caroline to convince him he can still take over the reins of his pack again - with or without Ansel. The fact that Klaus'  _ biological father _ would come to be a factor in any of this in itself warrants a really special place in the sea of insanity that is New Orleans.

"Did Ansel ever tell you anything that could help you figure out how to get your people back together?" she asks.

"Nothing practical," he says, flipping over the pages of the journals he filled with Ansel's infinite wisdom. "There was this one thing, but..." he trails off, shrugging.

"What thing?" Caroline prods.

"Nothing viable. And now Ansel is dead, along with Ollie. So forgive me if I need a beer, because right now I can use all the help I can get."

He takes back his beer and storms off. Caroline sighs.

Her hope of ever getting the wolves out of Esther's control grows smaller and smaller by the day...

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Usually, whenever Marcel gets a call from Klaus, it's bad news. More often than not, it's  _ awful news _ . Sometimes punctuated with a threat. This time, however, Marcel felt like a little kid on Christmas' Eve.

"I'm a bit swamped around here, mate. Too many siblings, too little helping hands... You see, Elijah had some business to see to and I'm all on my own. I figured it would take twice as long for me to get the job done, so I was wondering - would you care to do an old friend a favor and torture some truths out of my little brother Kol? I take it you have some personal quarrels with him you might want to address."

_ Quarrels _ . That's one way to put it.

That little punk ass has been filling Davina's head with all sorts of poison, using that ridiculous Mikaelson charm to woo his way into her heart and turn her into another one of his minions. Not to mention, he certainly had his eyes on that white oak stake. Whatever Esther has in store for her kids, if it involved torching their vampire bodies, then it most certainly interests him. And he would  _ gladly _ take over Kol's interrogation.

Out of that whole twisted family, Kol was the one Marcel always liked the least. He remembers very clearly when he used to force him, a 12-year-old boy, to sit through Shakespeare reenactions with real people, compelled to stab and fight and poison each other to death.  _ It's more fun this way, young Marcellus _ , he used to say.  _ It's visceral, you see? This is realism. _ Real art.  _ This is how old Willy wanted you to experience his plays. Trust me. I knew the guy. He was a twisted freak, but his stories were so damn enjoyable if you only knew how to make the best of them. How about Romeo and Juliet, then? I know just who to play the poor doomed lovebirds. _

The thought of that deranged psycho around Davina makes him see red. Which is probably why it takes him no less than two minutes of conversation to stab Kol in the hand, pinning him down on his chair. In Marcel’s defense, he didn't really plan on getting violent so quick. He's not Kol. But the prick's got a sharp tongue he does not know when to bite, so... Marcel just had to show him, didn't he?

"We can keep doing this as long as you want," he says, calmly, removing the knife once Kol's done screaming. The best part about him not being a vampire anymore is that his hand is going to be throbbing for ages now. Marcel won't even have to stab him again, just stick his fingers in that wound and his eyes will be rolling into the back of his head.

"You ever get bored of getting bullied by my brother?" Kol retorts from behind grit teeth, breathing in short, painful gasps.

"Oh, I volunteered for this." Marcel's lips curl up in a smile, showing Kol the pearly white of his teeth. "The way I see it, you have it coming. First, you messed with Davina. Now, I hear you want to drag Rebekah into all of this. You have no idea how much pleasure it brings me to drive a knife through your body. Or I could cut out parts of it you'd rather keep."

"Ahh, more threats... How bloody inventive."

"Oh, you want inventive?" Marcel bites his own hand, then grabs a fistful of Kol's hair and pulls his head back, forcing him to drink his blood. "How's that for inventive? I could snap your neck right now and turn you into a brand new baby vampire."

The wound on Kol's hand immediately starts to close, so Marcel walks behind Kol's chair and touches the cool sharp end of his knife to Kol's throat. His new face remains absolutely impassive, but he catches the skip in his heartbeat. Not so fearless, then.

"Go on," Kol hisses at him. "Do it. My mother's got plans for me whether I like it or not. If I die, she'll just pop me into another body, not that my family will care much if the death is permanent."

Marcel pulls away slightly, looking him dead in the eye. Kol blinks and his mask of smug defiance slides right back into place, but Marcel could swear, just for a tiny second, he saw a little bit of vulnerability there, a tiny scratch in his polished disregard. Family, huh? Maybe that's Kol's Achilles' heel, after all. Who would've thought? The wildest of the Mikaelsons, who cares about nothing and no one... Talk about a plot twist.

"What are you really up to, and what's it got to do with Davina?"

Klaus smirks. "You're afraid I'm gonna break her little heart. That's downright paternal of you, Marcel."

Well, he tried.

Marcel raises his arm, ready to stab Kol right in the middle of those annoying vocal cords of his, see how he does as he dies trying to scream with a hole in his throat, but Klaus decides to step in right then.

"Easy, Marcel!" he says, putting his hands forward. "Easy. Let's give Kol a little longer to decide before we lop off his head, hmm? Besides... I kind of like that rug. It's an antique."

"Comments like that... He already thinks that you don't care," Marcel says, putting his knife down.

"Is that so, brother?" Klaus asks, a curious grin spreading on his lips as he cocks his head.

"You only daggered me a dozen times. You always cared more about Marcel than you did for me." Kol's resentment finally starts to shine through. Nothing like a near-death experience to have the most intimate parts of a coward’s soul come spilling out.

"I didn't realize I'd hurt your feelings."

"That's the thing, ain't it, Nik? You don't know squat about me."

"But thanks to Marcel, I know all I need to." Klaus clasps his hands behind his back, stalking closer to his brother. "You're desperate to be a part of this family, aren't you? All of your mischief was just attempts for attention. I see it now. A few years late, but hopefully not  _ too _ late. You know, the truth is, Kol, you're right to feel slighted. And I do mean that, you're right. But perhaps there's still time to make it up to you."

"Oh yeah?" Kol sneers. "You're gonna welcome me back into the family, Nik? You and Elijah both used to dagger me at the tiniest hint of disagreement. I remember you daggering me for thinking I was a bad influence on little Marcel. Now you have a new pet, don't you? A baby vamp living right under your roof."

Marcel shakes his head. "Hmm-hmm... Wrong move, pal."

Klaus lets out a bitter laugh, exchanging a knowing glance with Marcel. The first rule of living with the Mikaelsons nowadays is: you do not even so much as  _ suggest _ a threat to Caroline. Bad way to start rekindling familial bonds.

"A piece of brotherly advice... Little brother," Klaus starts, his eyes sharper than any knife. "Saying things like that is not going to make anything easier for you. So I'm gonna give you a minute to rethink your position and consider my heartfelt offer... Before I decide to withdraw it and take that little taunt of yours more seriously than you would like me to."

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Done with one brother, on to the next.

Klaus never thought he'd see the day when interrogation and torture would leave him exhausted. He'd say what a bloody day his mother chose to find Rebekah, but the truth is even if Elijah were here, he'd still have to do this mostly on his own. The way his brother was, he wouldn't trust leaving Kol or Finn alone with him, and that, coming from Klaus, is quite something, indeed.

It was a splendid idea to bring Marcel into it. He was appropriately motivated, knows all the buttons to push and is a terrific actor. Got all the answers he needed from Kol at this point, to learn his weakness, what exactly is in all this for him. Klaus knew this couldn’t be loyalty; Kol never had any love for their mother. Well, frankly, Kol never had any love for anyone, as far as Klaus could tell, but to learn that there's a deep yearning for a family there... He can finally see the big picture, what truly made his brother take the chance to come back as Esther's lapdog. This wasn't just about living. Kol always hated playing other people's pet. This is about belonging. He thought he'd have a second chance at the whole Mikaelson experience. If not with the lot of them, then at least with mother and Finn. But he's already realized that, even in that tiny group, he's the odd one out. Of course he would be. Finn had always been a fanatic, whereas Kol just wants to do his thing, whatever that is. And that's exactly where Klaus comes in.

Kol is not wrong. He's not just going to open the doors to his home to a newcomer with ulterior motives, especially not one whose sordid tricks he's only too familiar with - particularly when silver daggers and white oak ash can no longer be used to control his spectacular moods. There's only one place for a temperamental diva in this family, and it's very much taken. Klaus has earned that spot through many centuries of tantrums and hard work. Now... There might be ways for them to achieve a middle ground. If Kol proves himself trustworthy, if he can help them defeat their mother, he might yet earn his place back on the family's table - provided he stops with the thinly veiled threats to Caroline, of course. That will absolutely not be tolerated.

Now that Kol's mostly sorted, time to deal with the harder one to crack.

Frankly, he would rather just get rid of Finn at once. That one's too far gone. There are certain courtesies Klaus would be willing to offer Kol he'd never extend to Finn. But not only he's also the one with most knowledge of their mother's plans, being the closest one to her, he will also simply jump into another body if they kill him. Which means, he has to at least be given a proper chance. If he still refuses it, as Klaus assumes he will, they'll just throw him in the dungeons until they figure out a more permanent way to dispose of him.

"So, brother!" Klaus says as he enters the ballroom, where he left Finn once more chained to the railings on the staircase, the keys to his cuffs dangling from Klaus’ fingers. "Ready to embrace your new life of freedom?"

Finn looks up at him with a serenity that would be scary if his brother hadn't been a cold bastard his entire life. And afterlife. "I'm already free...  _ Brother _ ."

Klaus sighs, putting the keys back in his pocket. "You're aware our mother cares nothing for you? She's using you as she's using all of us, as she's always done."

"Niklaus, I assure you; my mother loves me. She loves all her children. We would not exist without her sacrifice."

"Oh, well. Too bad, then."

He turns on his heels, not willing to entertain any more of his sad tales of Esther's courage and wholeheartedness, but then Finn's voice blasts through the room, "Do you even know the truth?!"

Klaus stops and turns around, more curious about the sudden explosion of emotion than whatever it is he has to say. Finn has pretty much kept his composure throughout the entire time, never falling for any of his provocations, often trying to turn the questions around on him. Suddenly, Klaus seems to have touched on a raw nerve without even truly trying.

"Did you know, Niklaus, that she was barren?" he continues, a fiery ardor in his eyes. "And she grew so desperate for a family that she begged one of the most powerful witches in history for help. Her sister Dahlia. Of course, Dahlia's price was high. She agreed to make our mother fertile, but in exchange, she sought the first born as a sacrifice. Having no other choice... Our mother gave away our beloved sister Freya. For us."

"What nonsense is this now? Our sister died of the plague."

"Esther gave her away," he repeats, his tone clipped and harsh. "Think about that. The pain, the grief our mother must have endured."

Klaus treads over to him, stopping almost face to face with his brother. Finn seems to think he should be sympathetic, that he should understand what his mother allegedly went through. But if this is indeed true, then he only thinks less of Esther. Giving his own child away - to his sister, for a while, because her life was in danger - was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Finn will find no sympathy here for a mother who willingly offers her daughter in sacrifice. Then again... She once had them all murdered and turned into beasts, then tried to kill them all, starting with her favorite, and ordered the brutal murder of her own granddaughter. For once, that's a story he doesn't find hard at all to believe. It’s right up Esther’s alley, indeed.

"If what you say is true, then death is far too kind a fate for her," he speaks lowly, laced with contempt.

"She loves us more than you realize."

"And is love the reason she wanted my child dead?"

"She was trying to protect you from Dahlia's curse."

" _ What curse _ ?!" he bellows at his brother's face, voice cracking like a whip.

Finn's eyes flash. "Dahlia demanded the firstborn of every generation. Had your child lived, she would've paid the price. And if anyone had tried to protect her... Dahlia would come and destroy us all."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It figures, Caroline thinks, that Jackson's way of dealing with his frustrations would be to open his shirt and go chop some wood. She can almost hear Elijah's commentary in her head.  _ Typical, isn't it? Cavemen and their caveman habits. _

Then again, her coping mechanism these days seems to be witch-hunting in the Cauldron, while Klaus prefers to take skeevy women to his bed who later try to murder his entire family, so. Who are they to judge? Jackson’s way is kinda wholesome, really.

"So..." she starts, hands in her jacket's pockets as she strides over to him. "Wanna stop playing mountain man and tell me what this ritual thing Ansel told you about is?"

He shakes his head, putting a log on top of a trunk and swinging his axe down on it. "Not worth it."

"Jackson," Caroline pleads. "I'm sorry if I'm badgering you, but we all want the same thing. As long as Esther controls the werewolves, she's untouchable while we are nothing. Vampires are  _ particularly _ vulnerable and she's kicked them all out of the Quarter. The only reason why I'm still there is because she either wants to use me, or she's not dumb enough to get rid of me while she's negotiating with her sons. But I'm not stupid, I know I'm gone the second I'm not longer of any use to her. I can't fight an entire werewolf army  _ and _ the witches, and honestly, I don't want to. Those wolves are your people and they were mine too, for a while. I'm grateful for how you welcomed me into your camp and I hate to see them suffer at the hands of that hateful woman. So if there's a way that we can help them, I want to know. We've got nothing, Jack. Whatever you have, doesn't matter if it's unviable, it's still better than nothing, so I say let's hear it. Tell me."

Her plea must cause an effect, because Jackson puts down his axe and turns back to her, finally meeting her eyes. After considering her for a moment, he starts talking. "It's called the unification ceremony. We all grew up hearing these stories around here... But that's all they were. Myths. According to them, the werewolves' powers can be traced back to that ceremony, a ritual that bestows certain unique abilities onto every member of the pack."

"I don't understand."

"Back in the really ancient days, werewolf bloodlines were all distinct. Some had speed, some had strength, some could sense enemies from miles away. To evolve, you perform a ritual. A shaman would unite the alphas or their immediate descendants of each bloodline with this ceremony and the special abilities of each would be inherited mystically by everyone who participated in the ritual and agreed to answer to these alphas. After a few centuries of this, everyone had the same abilities, so alpha unifications became political. They became about power, about territory. And that's all we've ever known them to be."

"And do you believe in this mystical ritual?"

"I didn't. Not at first. But Ansel swore he saw it with his own eyes. And then he dies and I find out he's resurrected from a thousand years ago, which means he was alive to see it."

"I still don't see how that would help us."

Jackson's eyes flicker away from her, to the woods, then back, his lips pressed into a nervous line. "Ansel said... He mentioned... That the ritual could work... With you."

Caroline lets out a bark of a laugh. "Me?"

"Yeah, I know. I mean, you're -"

"A vampire. And a witch, before that. Never a werewolf."

"That's the thing. You have wolf in you, Caroline. You weren't turned by vampire blood; you were turned by werewolf blood. That's never happened before. You're the only vampire ever who's not a part of any existing sire lines. You have these skills, you're stronger, faster. You're... unique."

"Yeah, but I'm  _ not _ a hybrid, not in any way that counts. I don't have a werewolf bite, I don't turn -"

"Exactly. You have our blood in you,  _ alpha _ blood, from your daughter, but you don't turn on full moons. So, according to Ansel, if you were to take part in this ritual, then our people would inherit your... unique ability."

"You do realize that sounds completely insane, right?"

"I know."

"A vampire in an ancient werewolf ritual?"

" _ I know _ , Caroline."

"So you don't believe it."

"Ansel believed it, so I do, too. I don't think he would lie. He obviously knew a lot more about our people and traditions than I ever did."

"Well, then why didn't you want to tell me? Jackson!" Caroline smiles, hope kindling inside of her like a flame. "If what you're saying is true, if this thing can actually work, this is  _ perfect _ . It's the solution to all of our problems, everything we've been looking for all this time. The wolves can ditch the rings, which means Esther no longer will have a hold over them. They'll have to answer to you again. God! Let's find a shaman and make this happen - hell, we'll even make it a party -"

"It's not a goddamn party, Caroline," he cuts her off again, harshly, raising his voice over hers. "It's marriage. The unification ritual is a wedding ceremony. We would have to get married, and if the vows ain't honored, it doesn't work."

Caroline's mouth freezes halfway open, caught in a silent  _ oh _ , before she snaps it shut audibly, all that excitement dissolving in a second, leaving her cold. She casts her eyes downwards, folds her arms across her chest, feeling all kinds of awkward. So that's why he didn't want to mention it. Because the only way to save his pack involves marriage to someone who is... Well, unavailable, for all intents and purposes.

"We'd have to be husband and wife in a real way for the rest of our lives. Are you up for that?" Caroline purses her lips apologetically, tilts her head, but doesn't answer. "Didn't think so."

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Rebekah's never been so happy to see a skimpy, smelly side-of-the-road diner in her life. She feels like she's breathing for the first time in hours when she pushes the door open and all that smell of deep-fried fat and watered-down coffee fills her delicate nostrils.

She drove around in circles for hours and hours all day long, not knowing where to go and not daring to stop for more than a few minutes, only to change and feed the baby. Every time she so much as heard a bird chirping or saw a black point in the sky, she'd hit the pedal and get away as fast as she could. Eve was just as annoyed as she was, Rebekah could tell. She's such a good little girl, hardly ever cries, and she usually loves car rides, but whenever she woke up from her naps in her car seat, she was whimpering.

It was so stressful. Seeing a familiar face brings a much needed comfort, and not just emotional. Rebekah's physically exhausted in a way she didn't even know she could be, her tense and taut muscles unknotting at last after the most strenuous day she's had since she left New Orleans before her niece was even born.

Her brother chose the place well, she notices, as she makes her way through the rows of booths and tables. It's well off the main roads, quiet and nearly deserted.

Rebekah was half-hoping to see Nik. Not that she's not happy with Elijah, but, well... In times like this, you kind of want to bring out the big guns, and there's no bigger gun in this world than Niklaus. But Elijah's eyes sparkle just the same as Eve's father's would when he sees her, standing up in expectation as she approaches.

He helps her put the baby seat on the table and looks down at his niece in sheer adoration. The last time he saw her, she was less than a day old, probably still all wrinkly and pink, having narrowly escaped death. She's six months now. Rebekah sees her every day and she can hardly believe how grown up and beautiful she is. Nik and Caroline must've had one hell of a night, because the end result is perfection.

Oh, but Rebekah's missed Elijah so much, too... With a bright smile on her face, she opens her arms to give her big brother a tight hug. He kisses the top of her head before pulling away, and she sits down while he takes Eve, cradling her on the curve of his arm with all the care in the world. She goes easily, probably glad to be free from that damned seat. He slides into the spot across from Rebekah with a reverent look in his eyes, and she can't help the goofy grin on her face. She can only imagine the day Caroline finally gets to see her little girl.

"Look at you," Elijah coos while Eve looks around with her big, curious blue eyes. "So big, so perfect... I can't imagine the joy of spending every day with her. It's..."

"Quite lovely. Feels so human."

"Yes. Some would argue it's the most human of experiences."

"And she's the sweetest little girl."

"And looking more and more like her mother, I see."

"Thank God for that." Elijah smiles affectionately. "I know I have to give her back to Caroline when the time is right, and hopefully that will be soon... But she's made me realize how much I want a child of my own that I know I can't have."

Every day, Rebekah falls more deeply in love with her niece, and as much as she wishes for nothing more than to have Eve reunited with her parents and give them the chance to live through these same incredible moments she's had, love their child with the same burning devotion and care for her as they should, she feels the pain of separation growing with her love in anticipation. She's never wanted to be human or have a family all of her own more than in the past six months.

"That's a lovely dream. Unfortunately, it's one that's just beyond our reach, considering the curse of our existence," Elijah says softly, his eyes never leaving Eve. He's always been more comfortable with his own immortality than she has, but she knows that, at times, he's found himself wondering what it would be like to be human as well, wishing for a family, for children. The only one of them who never did was precisely the one who got it all. She'd say life's unfair if she wasn't so madly in love with Nik’s daughter. Right now, she feels nothing but gratefulness for Niklaus' crazy  _ gift _ and the miracle it generated - and that both he and Caroline would entrust her with their most precious treasure.

Rebekah gulps as that heavy melancholia settles inside of her as it always does whenever she starts to think of the damnation of her existence. So she decides to change the subject - albeit not to more pleasant matters. They don't seem to have many of those at hand.

"Seems Esther's attacking with her usual fervor," she says.

The grin on Elijah's face hardens, turns bitter. "Mother tortured me for days with painful memories I thought I'd buried long ago." He pauses, lifting his eyes to hers. "Then she made an offer. To make us all mortal again. You see, sister, mother believes that by placing us in new bodies we could reclaim some kind of purity, even begin families of our own again. And I have to confess, Rebekah... This invitation, however cruel the delivery, it had a certain kind of... appeal."

The same sorrow she feels, carved onto her brother's face; her same burden reflected in his eyes. Rebekah reaches a hand out and Elijah takes it, intertwining their fingers together. She notices a coppery stain on his cuff. This is a dirty diner, it could be ketchup, but somehow, without further inspection, she knows it's not. And coming to think of it... The place is a bit  _ too _ quiet, perhaps. There were some cars parked outside, there should be at least a few other customers, but Rebekah's seen not a soul since she walked in. The only other person other than the two of them is a waitress, quietly washing some dishes across the place. She hasn't so much as looked their way.

Rebekah's heartbeat spikes.

This isn't like Elijah. Nik, perhaps. But not Elijah. He mentioned Esther tortured him, didn't he? What else could she possibly have done?

"You needn't worry," Elijah says, noticing her questioning gaze. "We're safe."

She smiles, albeit a little more strained than she would've liked, and nods. Eve fusses in his arms, and she takes that as a chance. "Looks like this little one needs her diaper changed." She springs to her feet, pulling the bag over her shoulder and reaching out for the baby. Elijah passes her on and sits back down to wait while she heads to the toilet.

The first signs that something's definitely not right are on the blood smeared all over the counter and walls. Too much blood. She passes by the waitress, who lifts her glazed eyes at her lazily before going back to her dishes. Compelled, for sure.  _ Oh, bloody hell... _ Before Rebekah even pushes the door to the bathroom open, the stench of death hits her. She's afraid to look, but if she stops now, Elijah will know she's on to him and, for the first time in her life, Rebekah's afraid of her brother.

Bodies. Several of them. Piled up haphazardly, thrown over the sink, leaning against the walls. Bite marks all over them - cheeks, arms, necks... One is even missing an eye. Eve whimpers, fussing in her arms, probably sensing her distress.

Rebekah puts a hand in front of her niece's eyes and takes a deep, shuddery breath. How the hell is she going to escape Elijah?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I'm done leaving messages, Elijah. To say this is urgent would be a gross understatement. We need to speak  _ immediately _ . Call me back, will you?"

Klaus has to resist the urge not to send his phone flying across the courtyard. That's the sixth message he's left to Elijah in the last hour. His brother hasn't sent so much as a text. He had been diligently keeping in touch so far, and now, at the most dramatic of times, he goes radio silent. Like Klaus doesn't have enough complications on his plate as it is.

A flash of worry threatens to overwhelm him before he pushes it back down. He can't afford to panic. Not when Elijah is not answering his bloody phone when he's supposed to be with his daughter and Finn is spinning tales of firstborn curses in the other room.

Every day, this sodden world strives to drive him mad.

"Everything all right over there?"

He whips around to see Marcellus coming down the stairs, a casual enough stance that, Klaus wants to believe, at least on his end things seem to be under control.

"Yes," he lies, willing the worst of his fears away. "Elijah is not taking his calls and I don't fancy talking to machines. How's our elusive guest?"

"Not so elusive anymore," Marcel beams. "He's accepted your terms."

"Did you free him?"

Marcel nods. "As per your instructions. He's currently in the study room, having beignets."

"Perfect. Thank you for your support today, Marcel. I don't remember handling siblings being this draining. I must be getting old."

"No problem. I'm always here to teach that punk a lesson. You sure you don't need help with anything else?"

"I'm sure," he says, ignoring the little voice telling him to confess, to trust. Despite all their recent differences, Marcel saved Eve's life. He wouldn't do anything to harm her. Or that's what Klaus would like to believe. Unfortunately, as the days go by, he finds that his circle of trust shrinks further. Right now, even Elijah is testing his faith. "I need to go deal with that now."

"Hey," Marcel calls out to him as he flies up the stairs. "Remind him to keep his paws away from Davina if he wants to keep them. His deal is with you, not me."

Klaus smirks, and then continues on to what is, at this moment, his least problematic relative. The curve balls life has been throwing his way...

Kol seems so comfortable in this Kaleb lad's body Klaus almost doesn't find it strange anymore. He's recognizable, somehow. It's like his little brother's expressions have etched perfectly onto this man's face, his dark, wicked eyes shining bright behind this new set of blue ones he's found. He's not just wearing a mask; he's wearing the man. Kol really is one resilient little bugger. Klaus recalls his days in Alaric Saltzman's and Tyler Lockwood's bodies with dread. He felt dirty, wanted to claw out his skin. Well... Tyler did have its up sides. It was, in essence, the first time he kissed Caroline - even if she wanted to wash her mouth with bleach right after (such a liar).

"So," he says as he walks in on his brother delighting himself with a plate of beignets. He remembered it correctly, then. Those were Kol’s favorites. Klaus slumps down on the couch in front of him. "Davina Claire, huh? Marcel is not thrilled. He's very protective of that girl, I have to tell you. I'm not surprised, though. I do remember you having a taste for witches with an attitude."

"Not that different from you, then." Klaus' eyes sharpen, his jaw clenching just a tiny bit, but it's enough for Kol to notice his discomfort. "Right. I forgot I'm not allowed to mention your precious Caroline. Do forgive me."

"She's not a witch anymore," Klaus says. "Thanks to our mother."

Kol's gaze flickers away as he shifts a little in his seat. "I had nothing to do with that, by the way."

"I'm aware. Neither you nor Finn. That was all mother."

"Speaking of him... Where is our brother?"

"He's waiting uncomfortably for me to return and deliver his punishment - pass the beignets, will you?" He stretches a hand out and Kol lifts the plate off the table. Klaus takes one, tapping it on the side of the plate to remove the excessive sugar, and then bites on it.

"It's only a matter of time before mother gets bored waiting for you to let us go. Finn, at least. Don't expect she'd care if I never came home." Kol gives a light shrug, stuffing his mouth with another pastry.

It's almost sad to see how much he seeks acceptance, especially from a mother such as Esther, who would expect her own sons to sacrifice themselves at her command without shedding a single tear.

Klaus sighs. "A mother cares for her children. A monster does not. Once you accept she is the latter, you'll stop expecting the former, Kol. And despite what you might think of me... I did mourn you after your death. I was made to stand and stare at your corpse for hours. It was one of the worst moments of my life. I know you resent me for all the daggering, but I only ever meant to keep you safe, even from yourself if needed be. I did attempt to avenge you. I would do nothing less because we are brothers. Always and forever."

Kol nods sheepishly at him, and Klaus almost allows himself to relax, have a simple moment of enjoyment with his brother, eating sweets like they haven't got the weight of the world hanging over their shoulders. But then his phone rings and he's up on his feet like a thunder. "Excuse me. I have to take that."

He storms out, putting as much distance between himself and Kol's curious ears as he can before he presses the button. "Finally. Where have you been?"

"Nik, it's me," Rebekah speaks on the other end, causing Klaus to halt. "Something's wrong. Elijah slaughtered a dozen people whose only sin was their terrible taste in food. I mean, when have you known him to kill when he can otherwise compel? And he did it... Weirdly. He's acting strange."

_ Oh, bloody hell... _ Klaus pinches the bridge of his nose, remembering Elijah's behavior during breakfast this morning. "Mother's torture must have affected him more deeply than I realized. I thought he was in a mood. Where is he now?"

"I broke his neck to keep us safe. But I have no clue what to do next."

"Is she with you?"

"Yes, of course."

Making a quick decision, Klaus starts walking again with purpose in his step. "Do you recall the place we dined the Christmas after we fled Mikael?"

"I do."

"Go there. Now. And wait for me." He puts his phone down and catches Marcel still lurking around the courtyard. "Good, you're still here. I need you to carry on the second part of our plan."

Marcel arches his eyebrows at him. "The casket?"

"Yes. Make some air holes. Small ones."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I have some important things to take care of. Please watch over my home while I'm gone, and let me know if anything happens."

"I... Sure," Marcel replies, blinking a little uncertain at him. Klaus would offer some more reassurances, but, unfortunately, time is of the essence, and his patience for stalling has run its course.

He grabs his jacket and heads for the exit, Finn's distant screams serving as background noise to his loud thoughts. As though summoned by sheer will, just as he's about to take out his phone and call her, Caroline walks in.

"Klaus," she says, a strange look in her eyes he doesn't have the time or the focus to decipher. "I was going to find you. There's something I need to tell you."

"You can tell me on the way," he says, walking right by her.

"What? On the way where? Where are we going?"

Klaus stops, turns back to her, an odd and unfamiliar kind of emotion rising in his chest as he meets the question in her eyes. "To see our daughter."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized this chapter was a 'short' one compared to most of the others, and then I also realized that 'short' here means 10k words. LOL This says a lot about this story. I don't know if I should apologize for that or...? 😂
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you guys enjoyed it and, if you will, am looking forward to seeing your thoughts! :)


	9. S02E09 The Map of Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considerable amount of original scenes/dialogues ahead. Really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! :)

* * *

Christmas is far and wide Rebekah's favorite invention of the modern capitalist world.

She hasn't had much of an honest chance to enjoy since she woke up from her decades slumber in Mystic Falls, but she still keeps fond memories of the later decades of their previous stint in New Orleans. Niklaus turned their lavish Holiday bashes at the compound into a tradition. It soon became one of the most anticipated events on the city's social calendar. The fine citizens of New Orleans would spare no dime or effort to make sure they'd be included in their rather exclusive guest list. They always made sure theirs would be the most remarkable Christmas tree in the whole city. It was an event of its own, revealing the tree. Reporters would line up with the hulky, primitive cameras just to photograph it for the papers. Rebekah was the one in charge of the decorations. It was such a lovely time.

This year, she was determined to make it up for the century of missed celebrations. It was a special year, after all. Eve's first Holiday season. Her mother's revolting interference has thwarted all of her big plans, of course. The huge Christmas tree she'd handpicked, as well as the tons of fairy lights and beautiful decorations she's bought now lay forgotten at the house she'll likely never return to. Rebekah's favorite Holiday purchase was this little elf with attached pointy ears that said _Christmas Eve_ . It was _such_ a good pun... Esther always ruins _everything_ , that hateful, hateful woman.

In running away from her mother, Rebekah has ended up at the exact same place where she spent her last Christmas Eve before Nik daggered her in Chicago. The farm house in Arkansas where they stopped as they fled from New Orleans in 1919. The mood that night had been rather bleak, nothing like the merry Holidays she'd grown so easily accustomed to. They'd lost Marcel, their precious city and their beautiful home. And just to make it all the more poignant, they were yet to hear word from Elijah.

Nik had been so quiet on those awful weeks following their grand escape... It only added to Rebekah's guilt. She was broken, completely crushed under the impossible weight of regret. That was one depressing Christmas dinner.

This time, however, it seems not everything has turned out for the worse. Because of Esther, they will now be spending Eve's first Christmas all together, as a family, and Nik and Caroline will finally get to see their little girl. Circumstances are far from ideal, but a good thing is still a good thing. And about bloody time, if you ask her.

Rebekah never went back there after those brief weeks in 1919, but the house must've stayed in Klaus' thoughts, or else he's been back more often than she'd imagined. The place looks fine. A bit worse for wear, perhaps, definitely in need some renovations and minor repairs, but it's well stocked, perfectly clean and, more importantly, completely empty. No sign of residents anywhere. It has also been properly cloaked, meaning that, for now at least, they're safe.

She goes scavenging in the basement and comes up with an old Christmas wreath, which she hangs on the door, and some much-needed bottles of wine. Sometimes she is truly grateful for Nik's alcoholism.

"Well, isn't this place rather nice?" she says as she rejoins Elijah in the living room. "Nik must have compelled a wine lover to take care of the house because I found a 2005 Bordeaux. Fancy a sip?"

Elijah doesn't even turn back from where he is, leaning against the mantelpiece above the fireplace, sulking. He's been like this ever since he woke up.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Rebekah, but I do recognize when I'm being handled with kid gloves,” he says, a hint of temper biting around the edges.

Rebekah puts down the wine, planting both hands on her waist. At some point, they'll have to address the psychotic outbreak he had at the diner. Rebekah's not worried for her own safety, or Eve's for that matter. She doesn't feel threatened by Elijah. But he's clearly not in his right mind, and, judging by that permanent line on his forehead, he's just as vexed over it as she is - only, perhaps, still a little in denial.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Patronized." He turns around to check on the baby, who’s sucking on her thumb in her crib, completely oblivious to the tension slicing the air around her. "I'm here to protect you."

"I know you meant to, Elijah."

"And yet you found it necessary to render me unconscious before bringing me here. Did you not think I would come of my own will?"

"You weren't yourself. I didn't know what you would or wouldn't do and I decided not to take a chance. I needed to get us out of that place before anyone walked in took notice of what you did. What happened back there?"

He's quiet for a moment. "I don't know." Elijah sinks down on the couch, a shadow crossing the impassive planes of his expression. "Niklaus sent me here to protect Eve. My job is to keep her safe. It’s what I knew I had to do, and it’s what I did. It's what I will always do."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Tell me again where we're going."

It's the first thing Caroline has said in hours. After showering Klaus with an avalanche of questions, she clamped her lips closed, looked out the window and uttered nothing more. He welcomed the silence for a while, with all the screaming thoughts worrying away inside his own skull. After a while, however, the quietness grew uncomfortable. He could hear all of Caroline's doubts and fears in her pause. The things they weren't saying were hanging heavy in the warm air inside the car.

Were they doing the right thing? Was it safe to go to her? Is that house really well enough protected from Esther? How long before the truth comes out?

Klaus has used that place several times over the years, renewing the cloaking spells that keep it hidden every once in a while. Mikael never managed to locate them, even when he was hot on their heels after New Orleans, so he's confident the place is secure. But the question of for how long remains. Mikael wasn't a witch, and not many are as powerful as Esther. It's across the Louisiana borders, but mere six hours away; not nearly far enough to settle the dread in his chest. Rebekah was much further away when she was found by those bloody starlings. Elijah's breakdown at the diner is exactly the kind of pattern their mother will be looking out for. She programed Elijah for things like that, and so she'll know he went to Rebekah, which will invariably raise the question... Why, unless they were hiding something?

The house only buys them some time. Now that Esther is on to Rebekah, the clock is ticking faster than ever. They cannot afford to sit idly as passive expectants anymore.

For the time being, however, all Klaus wants is to see his daughter. Make sure she is fine and safe. There hasn't been a day gone by in the last six months when she wasn't a constant in his thoughts, even with everything else happening around them. Eve was the first and the last thing in his mind every single day, but always as this distant, almost mythical existence. Something absolutely beyond his reach. She guided Klaus' every action and yet he had no idea when he would be able to see her. It feels surreal to be on his way to his daughter, at last. Some faraway dreaming suddenly made real.

"Arkansas," he replies.

"Where in Arkansas?"

"Middle of Nowhere, Arkansas," he says, casting her a glance. "Do you honestly think I know the name of places in bloody Arkansas? I have no idea where that is, I only know where to go. Why are you asking?" _Again_ , he doesn't add.

"Because I'm nervous. And worried. And freaking out. And sick to my stomach. And I have no idea where I'm going. How does your mother find out about our daughter and you don't tell me right away?" she demands, finally snapping.

"I explained it to you already, you weren't listening. She didn't find our daughter, she found Rebekah. Esther doesn't know she's alive." Caroline crosses and uncrosses her arms, jaw clenched as she taps her feet nervously on the car floor. "It'll be fine, sweetheart," Klaus says around a sigh, trying not to let his own anxiety bleed into his voice. Caroline is too on edge for the both of them.

"Fine," she scoffs. "When was the last time things were ever truly fine? A year and a half ago?" she bites out sourly.

He frowns. A year and a half ago, back when she was still Tyler Lockwood’s girlfriend and the idea of carrying a miracle baby would’ve likely made her laugh hysterically at the sheer absurdity of it.

"Ouch. That's hurtful."

"You know what I mean," she grumbles, burying her face in her hands. Klaus feels a stab of guilt. This isn't how this moment was supposed to go. They've waited way too long to see their daughter to be this much of a wreck just when they're about to. After everything she's been through... Caroline deserved better than this. Their reunion should not come shrouded in yet another life-and-death travesty.

"I'm losing my mind," she breathes out, letting her arms fall down next to her body in defeat. "For six months I've thought of almost nothing else but this day. What if she hates me?" Klaus scoffs, giving her a side glance. "I mean it. She probably thinks Rebekah's her mother."

"She's a baby, Caroline. She doesn't know what she thinks."

"What if I suck at this? What if it turns out that all this time, she's been better off away from me because I'm a lousy mom? What if I have no idea what I'm doing and screw everything up?"

"Are you planning on poking her with a stick?"

"Stop joking, Klaus. This is not funny."

He swallows back the chuckle threatening to escape his lips. This side of Caroline is, for a change, endearing. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I love her so much it feels like I'm going to explode."

He reaches out, taking her hand in his. He gives her a gentle, comforting squeeze, and she squeezes back, hard.

"You said there was something you wanted to tell me," he asks, changing the subject to get her mind off it. "What was it?"

Caroline shifts uncomfortably in her seat, facing the window. "It can wait."

"We still have an hour ahead of us."

"It's not important. Let's focus on one thing at a time. Right now, Eve takes precedence."

"In that case..." He pauses, sighing in dejection yet again. There is one thing he failed to fill her in on. He was going to wait until they were all together at the house before breaking the news, but... The way she is, it might be better to prepare her now. "Finn told me something involving our daughter that is... potentially worrisome, depending on how willing to believe him you are."

The lines on Caroline's forehead deepens, her grip on his hand tightening considerably. "He knows about Eve?" Her voice shakes with the beginning of panic as she speaks.

"No. And that's the problem. He thinks she's dead, and that because of that, we’ve all been spared of the dreadful consequences of a bargain my mother made a thousand years ago. One that involved the firstborns in every generation in our family."

"Oh, come on..." Caroline whines, sinking further into her seat.

The next hour will be the longest one in this trip, he can already tell.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Is that what I think it is?" Elijah inquires after watching Rebekah putting together what is most definitely a bonfire on their front yard.

"It's bonfire season!" his sister beams with more excitement than their current predicament warrants. Bless Rebekah and her heart for always trying to make the best out of situations. How she manages to do that in this family is no small miracle. "I'm reviving a family tradition, seeing that Nik and Caroline are on their way and we're all going to be together."

"Only because we're fleeing from one of our deranged parents, another Mikaelson family tradition." She glares at him, but her smile doesn't go anywhere. "It's a peculiar thing... Never to be tired yet forever exhausted with the sameness of things," he continues as he takes Eve from her seat and into his arms. "Why is our family always at war?"

"I don't know," Rebekah says as she approaches the two of them. The moment she sees Rebekah, Eve starts mumbling her little incoherent sounds, her tiny hands opening and closing. Elijah can't help the smile on his face. Despite all the wretchedness inside of him, he finds that this little girl instills the purest of feelings in his heart. "Being away with her made me see things differently," his sister continues, the same goofy smile he sports tugging at her lips. "We were all once like her. Innocent. We weren't born evil. And we're not so bad." Eve laughs as she plays with Elijah's tie, her silly uncle and aunt chuckling with her. "We're not the monsters our parents think we are."

Elijah catches the distant sound of an engine, and when he looks at the dirt road ahead, he sees the cloud of dust left behind as Klaus' black SUV speeds towards them. He glances at Rebekah, who smiles at him, squeezing his forearm, and he knows she's thinking the exact same thing.

 _Finally_.

For all her involvement and dedication in keeping Eve safe, Rebekah wasn't there that day. She doesn't know what it was like. In a thousand years, Elijah doesn't think he's ever lived through a worst nightmare. No torture Esther could ever put him through could be more soul-grinding than the events of that night in May.

Waking up in a dizzying rush, weakened and feverish and choking up in werewolf venom, to realize they'd been betrayed by those they'd deemed allies, and that the price to be paid for that mistake, for putting their trust in the wrong people, was Caroline. Finding her dead in that church, her cold, still body clutched tightly in Niklaus' helpless, paralyzed arms. The maddening torment of wandering about that cemetery, lost and consumed with despair, knowing that time was running out, and each ticking second took his niece closer to her death. And then, once everything was done and dusted, the heartbreaking realization that they'd have to send her away. And that's not even considering how excruciating Caroline's transition was, or the soul-crushing grief that fell upon their household like a cloak, shielding them from any modicum of peace or joy they could ever hope to find in order to quench their spirits after such terrible events.

That was... Not something Elijah will soon forget. Maybe not ever.

Six months later, and they're perhaps much more at risk than they could've ever predicted to be at this stage, with enemies far more formidable than those witches and a bunch of cowardly wolves. But Caroline has risen above, having finally found balance. Niklaus has somewhat pulled himself together, as much as he ever could. And finally, _finally_ , they are going to see their child.

Considering the inherent danger surrounding them at the moment, it might seem like not much of a comfort, but, at the same time, it is everything. To the two of them, as well as to Elijah, who was there every step of the way, it means everything. This is what they were fighting for then, and it's what they're fighting for now. And he is glad he gets to be here to witness this reunion, just as he was there for their darkest hours.

The car hasn't even stopped before Caroline jumps out and races towards the house. She's almost to the front porch when she halts, her lips parted in a mix of wonder and disbelief, unblinking eyes fixed on Eve as though she can't really believe what she’s seeing. As though she's scared to come any closer to find out none of this is real.

Elijah smiles then, takes a step forward and holds the baby out for her. Eve giggles, and her sound seems to blast through the bubble of Caroline's fears. She blinks rapidly a few times, her eyes suddenly rimmed with tears, and when she finally puts her arms out to take her child, her hands are shaking.

She lets out a shuddery gasp, smiling at Eve, who's immediately entranced by her mother's golden curls. The light in Caroline's eyes glows brighter than Elijah remembers seeing in a very, very long time.

It's a moment before they remember Niklaus is also there. Like Caroline, he stopped at a distance. If Elijah didn't know better, he'd say his brother looks _grim_ , but in truth he must be completely out of his depth. His expression is taut, almost pained, and Elijah would not be surprised if he stormed off in a daze right now. It's usually what he does when he can't handle his overwhelming feelings. But Caroline steals his window for a brash reaction when she walks over to him.

With a smile as bright as the sun on her face, she kisses the top of her baby's head and offers her to him. Klaus gazes nervously at her, but Caroline merely nods, reassuring, and he takes the baby. All awkward at first, before Eve finally seems to settle into a comfortable position in her father's arms, tiny hands splayed on his chest as she looks up at him with her big eyes.

A smile finally breaks through the clouds hanging over Niklaus’s head, his face lighting up with boyish wonder as he kisses his daughter’s cheek. Eve goes on mumbling her childish gibberish again, tearing proud chuckles from her parents as she did from her uncle before. This tiny little project of a human being has all these vicious immortal creatures wrapped around her chubby fingers, it seems.

Rebekah wraps her hand around Elijah's arm and rests her chin on his shoulder as the two of them watch the scene unfolding before them, mesmerized. A warmth spreads over the rot that'd settled inside Elijah ever since he'd woken up from his mother's nightmares.

They look like a family again, the three of them, a unit, just as they did the night she was taken away. Except now they radiate joy, as they should, instead of the worst kind of dread. At last, they are the family they should've been six months ago.

Elijah wants to remember this moment, keep it at the forefront of his mind against whatever horrors may lie ahead. If anything, then at least because he doesn't think he's ever seen his ruthless mighty brother this taken with such a wholesome kind of joy a single day in his life.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Curse on the first born? Is any of that true?" Rebekah asks as she adds more logs to that bonfire she's been working on for the past half hour.

Klaus has just finished updating them all on the latest developments from the French Quarter. Kol has jumped ship and joined their side. Finn is still being held captive at the compound, unrelenting and standing by his foolish tales of an evil witch and a thousand years old bargain, back to bring pain and desolation to their lives. No one seems entirely convinced, he'd say Rebekah and Elijah even look unconcerned, but Caroline went immediately tense when he started talking, hugging Eve tighter.

She hasn't let the baby out of her sight for a second. Not that Klaus is complaining. As unbelievable as it was to have his child in his own arms, he finds it comforting to watch Caroline and Eve together; it soothes all the spiky edges of his spirit, makes him calmer and more clear-headed. It's the reprieve he didn’t know he needed as calamity comes knocking on their door again.

"I'm sure Finn believes so, but he's learned it from the bastion of truth: our mother," Elijah says noncomitantly as he rolls up his shirt sleeves to help Rebekah with her project. Next thing they're gonna ask him to join in, those silly fools, so attached to their _traditions_. Klaus is twisting his lips in distaste in anticipation.

"Great," Caroline bites out sourly, rocking the baby back and forth. He has a feeling the one she's trying to placate is herself, but Eve seems to be enjoying it nonetheless. "So, any more deranged relatives on your family tree I should be aware of? Any Viking cousins ready to rise from the dead to offer my daughter as a sacrifice to the old gods of goats? Whatever happened to having inconvenient, sexist drunk uncles?"

"She has the inconvenient drunk uncle category covered. You've met Kol," he sneers.

"Oh, ha-ha," Caroline glares. "Chances of us running into your crazy aunt Dahlia, then?"

"Fable's over a thousand years old. Dahlia's long dead," Elijah offers.

"Like Esther?" she counters. And that... Gives them all pause.

"No one's going to hurt Eve because no one's going to find her," he says, drawing a line under this unpleasant conversation. "That's enough wood, Rebekah. You'll burn down the whole bloody state of Arkansas."

"Well, I'm just missing a key ingredient," his sister says, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"No, we're not," he retorts moodily.

"Yes, we are, Nik! Back me up, Elijah!"

And there it is. Klaus grunts, hands, on his hips, shaking his head. Oh, his bloody siblings...

Elijah smiles, obviously amused. "I suspect Niklaus would rather choke on the ashes."

"Uhm..." Caroline starts, eyebrows bunching. "A little left out here. What are you all talking about?"

"It's tradition!" Rebekah remarks with far more excitement than this foolishness deserves. "Before we light the bonfire, we write down our wishes for each other to burn for luck. It was Kol's favorite part of Yule celebrations when we were kids."

"Further evidence as to why we should ignore it," he grumbles.

"Eve's first bonfire season," Caroline muses, the smile kicking up at her lips indicating he's about to lose this battle. "I like it. We're doing it!" _Of course she likes it_ , he thinks. Give Caroline a project, see if she doesn't get all over it in a blink.

Klaus glares at the real culprit. “Nicely done, Rebekah.”

She merely gives him an unconcerned shrug. "Don't pout, Nik. You heard her."

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It doesn't go unnoticed that, as they all go back to the house and start bickering about who would write what, Elijah quietly slips out of sight. Next time Caroline sees him, he's alone on the back yard, _chopping wood._ That's so very... Jackson. Which means it couldn’t be further away from Elijah. It screams of trouble.

She was so overwhelmed with her own emotions it took her a while to remember how all this surprise reunion came to pass, and the fact that Elijah is clearly unwell, way worse than he was letting on. He's got every sign of PTSD, even down to over fixating on certain things, like his clothes. He didn't even take off his tie to go chop wood, like the slightest deviation can send him spiraling again. As if his suits and his ties and his pocket scarves are the things keeping him together.

Unlike his brother, who would be throwing a fit, breaking down the house and trying to drink himself into stupor, Elijah chose to find other, more discreet ways to exorcise his demons. Instead of making himself noticed, he went under their overexcited radars and found himself an activity. She doubts he's a hands-on kind of man, but they don't have a piano in the house, so he's making do with the little he's got.

It breaks her heart a little, how selfless Elijah is even in his own pain. She can't help the jab of guilt trickling in. She gets that today is special and she has every right to be as happy as she freaking wants about being reunited with the sweetest cheeks this world has ever seen, but Elijah's done so much for her... For her daughter. What kind of friend would she be if she just ignored his suffering?

"Definitely not appropriate dress code for chopping wood," she remarks once she spots an opportunity to approach, when he finishes with the chopping and starts piling up the wood on the back porch. "I've got it in good authority that it's old jeans and an open shirt."

His lips pull up into a tight grin. "Regretfully, I forgot to pack my lumberjack attire.”

"What would Tom Ford say if he could see what you're doing to his creations?"

"I prefer Italian design, actually."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Of course. How pedestrian of me." There's an awkward pause, her smile flattening before sliding off her face. "Are you ok?" she asks after a moment.

Elijah drops the firewood, turns to her with a solemn expression across his face. "Caroline, whatever Niklaus or Rebekah may have told you, I promise you, I would never hurt your child," he says, defensively.

"I know you wouldn't, I'm not afraid of that. I'm worried about you, Elijah." He faces away, all tense once more as the walls go up. "Your mother held you captive for so long. I can't understand how she could ever do something like that to you. Torture her own son... But if we're to believe this story about her giving away her firstborn..."

"It's no wonder we turned out the way we did, is it? When you learn my family's history, it becomes obvious. We were created in the image and likeness of our makers, every bit as monstrous as the ones who raised us."

"You're nothing like your parents, Elijah," she speaks in a firm tone, nearly scolding him, a determined frown between her eyebrows. He lifts his face to her, surprised by her reaction.

If there's one thing Caroline cannot stand it's this completely twisted self-loathing the Mikaelsons men seem to share. It's the perfect paradox: at the same time they are a bunch of arrogant brats, they have this warped contempt for their own existences that seeps deep into their very cores. They lash out and growl and bare their teeth at the world because they think they're not worthy of anyone's love or compassion, and that being the case, then why even try?

Because their parents were a pair of psychos who failed miserably at the most basic aspects of their roles, they simply take that as evidence that they _must_ be just as rotten, could never strive for anything better. It's just how things are meant to be. They were molded after monsters, therefore...

They surely can be awful and Caroline has an infinite list of complaints, but that does not mean they deserve every bad thing that comes their way, especially not when they're trying to do right. And it _definitely_ doesn’t mean that they should take all that as some kind of immutable, unstoppable truth.

Caroline is a firm believer in second chances and people's unyielding capacity for good. If she didn't, she would've ended up mad a long time ago. Would certainly not be able to live with herself now, after becoming a vampire. And she would've never, ever fallen for the Big Bad Wolf. She's not deluded, she knows Klaus doesn't have _a heart of gold._ But hidden under all that filth and depravity, there's someone who's capable of being better. Someone who's broken, who's been terribly hurt, who's known nothing but darkness for most of his abnormally long life - and, sure, who may have enjoyed it a lot more than it would be considered socially acceptable. But someone who still sees beauty in the light, who can still love and show kindness, selflessness. Therefore, someone who can be saved. There are bad days, for sure; worst days, even. But there are also many, many good days that come to renew her faith, and that's what she chooses to hold on to.

The same is true for Elijah. He’s always been much more moral and prone to kindness than Klaus, even if just out of politeness or reason than the actual goodness of his heart. He can't buy this crap that he and his siblings were doomed from the moment they were born, otherwise what's the point? Elijah spent a thousand years fighting for his brother's redemption, and is now allowing these goddamned ideas to sink into his brain because his cow of a mother spent an entire day punching it down his throat, all to convince him that the only way to live a righteous life is to relinquish everything he is. Everything he fought so hard to preserve.

That's just not fucking fair.

If Esther wants Elijah to think that he's too rotten to deserve love or friendship or the support of a family, well, then Caroline will make it her job to remind him that he does.

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"I'm not excusing all the bad things you and your family have all done - some of you more than others..." She arches her eyebrows, obviously referring to Niklaus. His brother does have quite the history, but Caroline has no idea the things he has done... The memories and instincts that have surfaced inside of him. The images flashing in his mind all day long. The things he sees when he looks at her. Elijah can almost taste her blood in his mouth...

He's worse than Niklaus, dirtier, crueler and far more dishonest. At the very least, his brother never lied about who he is. He admits all his vileness, even basks in it, while Elijah chastises and casts judgement, hiding his wretchedness behind a veneer of nobility and politeness, burying it to never think of his victims again. He's the worst possible kind of beast. He's a coward.

"You're not monsters," she continues, from her vantage point of innocence. "Monsters don't care, Elijah. Monsters don't fight with everything they've got to protect innocent children. And I don't just mean my child. You helped save all those werewolf kids the other day, and ended up falling into your mother's trap exactly because she was counting on you to do the right thing. Don't you see? Esther is poison, and she wants to infect you because even your wretched mother, who hardly knows anything about her own kids, knows there is goodness in you, and she exploited that like it was a weakness. Something that made you vulnerable, rather than stronger. She tried to twist that, Elijah, to make you feel like you're unworthy, like you're some kind of hypocrite, but you can't let her get to you because she's wrong. _She_ is the hypocrite.

“She says you'll be purified if you start over as mortals, but what has she done with her new mortal life? What has Finn? How is that any better than being a vampire? A thousand years of sucking blood and you still have more of a conscience than she ever did. Hell, not even Klaus would have done to a pregnant woman what she did to me. You've been making do with what you've got, with the hand that _she_ dealt you, for a millennium. You took care of your family, you held them together, like the father figure they never had. And you took care of me, Elijah, when I had no one else. I was no one to you, just this random girl your brother knocked up and who you’d never even spoken to before, but you showed me nothing but kindness from the very first day. And now you're fighting to protect my daughter from a woman who talks about good vs evil in the same breath she justifies her attempt to murder a newborn. So don't let her get into your head. Your parents are the monsters. You're not. The only way she wins is if you believe her, so don’t."

Elijah stares at Caroline in utter astonishment. It's like she could hear him thinking, the spinnings of his sickly mind, and argued with the destructiveness crowded inside his skull. For the first time since he came back from that tomb, Elijah feels a moment of respite. He knows it won't last, it will come back as soon as Caroline turns away, as soon as he can't see that earnest, hopeful glimmer burning through her eyes with fierce resolve. Right now, however, he's finally able to breathe again after days on end buried deep under seven layers of wretchedness.

Elijah's heart tells him she's wrong, of course, but he finds he doesn't want to change her mind. Caroline has always seen the best in all of them. Always hopes for it. She never excused their failures - especially Niklaus’, whose slips have always tended to be more dramatic and far more devastating, and whom she cares for above everyone else. And yet even at the worst of times, she’s made a choice to hold on to the silver linings, to the timid slivers of light seeping in through the cracks in their darkened auras. It's this unshakable optimism of hers what makes her so very special, why she stands out in a crowd, why Niklaus laid eyes on her and could never look away again. And he's so very grateful to hear those words right now. Her voice has been the first thing to color through the guilt and the rot rattling away inside of him. How he wishes he could believe her...

Despite her honest, kind-hearted intentions, Caroline doesn't know. She has no idea the things he's done, how many innocent souls like the children he saved he has also viciously reaped from this world. He did it just today at that diner, in an access of paranoia befitting of Niklaus at his worst. She's seen the man in the suits, the one who would walk through fire for his family, the farce, but not the monster underneath.

The guilt is suffocating, leaves very little space for anything else. And now there's also the added fear that she might be his next victim. Elijah almost drove her insane with his demand for correctness. He could've quenched that precious light inside of her with his hypocrisy, claiming to have her best interests at heart when, in truth, he was holding her to gruesome standards none of them could ever meet, least of all him. Away from him, Caroline has blossomed, shining brighter than ever. Elijah could never forgive himself if he ever hurt her, or anyone she loves. He wants to think that he wouldn't, but his mother's despicable manipulations have taken root in ways he can't even fathom. Truth is he doesn't know what he's capable of anymore. Doesn't know that he won't just... Snap. His former prided self-possession and restraint have never felt more fragile.

In her eyes, he and Niklaus are much better than they've ever truly been, and Elijah wants her to keep seeing him that way. He _needs_ her to, now more than ever. He wants to hold on to that, wrap himself in that comfort, in the faith she obviously puts in him, until it becomes a second skin. It's so easy to believe these things when they come in her warm, melodic voice... But he doesn't know that he can fool himself with these sweet lies anymore.

"Thank you," he says earnestly.

Caroline cocks her head and smiles the way she always does - wide and soft and like she really means it. “Don’t thank me. I’m not saying this just to make you feel better. I’m saying it because I believe it, and it drives me crazy that you don’t.”

The baby crying cuts through their moment. Niklaus comes rushing towards them, face twisted with panic, carrying Eve as she bawls her eyes out.

"The baby is howling," he says, going straight for Caroline and passing her the child like it's a hand grenade about to explode. "She was fine and then she started _crying_ like this. What did I do? Did I hurt her?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, exchanging a look with Elijah but clearly biting back on a smile. "Yes, Klaus. Good thing you brought her just in time. Babies explode if you can't find the diffuse button when they start crying," she snarks.

He blinks, his face absolutely serious. "What?"

"Use that power nose of yours!" Caroline taps the side of his nose with the tip of her index finger. "All that hybrid hubris and you can't even tell when a baby needs a diaper change? Come on. Time for Poopy Diaper 101."

She shakes her head and walks back to the house, Klaus following her close behind.

"She's screaming off the top of her lungs, Caroline," he objects. "That can't just be about a diaper."

"Have you tried spending a long time in soiled pants?"

"No, because I'm not a _child_. But that cry -"

"Babies _cry_ , Klaus. It's what they do."

"That loud?!'

"That's how they talk. They cry in different ways for different things. They cry so you're compelled to give them what they want."

"So basically, what you're saying is that she's emotionally manipulative."

"I knew you'd relate to that. She even pouts like you."

"I don't pout."

"You're pouting right now. Grab the diapers, will you?"

Elijah's lips curl upwards at their lighthearted argument. That's the kind of thing that should've been filling the cold halls of the compound for the past six months. The kind of domesticity he was hoping Eve would bring into their lives, softening Niklaus' barbed edges as he learned his way around fatherhood with Caroline's no-nonsense lessons. Like a normal family. Except they're anything but. And the first evidence of that are the images flashing through Elijah's mind as Caroline turns her back to him.

Her golden hair flying behind her as she speeds down the long corridor, desperate, scared, panting, clawing at the red door. He can smell her blood, taste her fear, and he _craves_ it... Just as he's finally about to reach her, his fangs showing on his face, his eyes reddened in lust and hunger, he snaps out of it, dropping the firewood on the floor.

Elijah presses the tips of his shaky fingers to his closed eyes, drawing in slow, deep breaths as he fights to regain control of reality.

"Elijah." He looks up when his sister's voice materializes beside him, concern etched onto her features. It's no use trying to disguise. She knows. "What do you see, when you go away like that?"

"Things I've done, things I could do, images of who I was. Another gift from mother," he explains calmly as he picks up the firewood once more, filling the bag to take inside. "I can't turn it off. I suppose it's her way of demonstrating I'd be better off taking her deal."

He walks over to the chair where he’d left his jacket, shrugging it back on.

"To leave your body and life behind?" Rebekah prods, following him.

"To start over. To live a mortal life, have a child of my own if I chose to."

"A cursed first born, if we're to believe that story."

"Not if I am no longer of Mikaelson blood. That is the beauty and the horror of our mother, Rebekah. Sometimes, even her darkest deeds possess a logic that is difficult to refute."

"That's a lovely fantasy, Elijah."

Elijah sits down on the chair and Rebekah sits with him, refusing to leave him alone. He drums his fingers nervously on the table, looking away from what he knows he'll see in his sister's eyes: a reflection of the secret longing for a normal life he keeps hidden away. Rebekah never made a mystery of her heart's desires, but Elijah never allowed himself to dream. What for, if it was longing with no purpose? Caroline and her miraculous pregnancy were as far as he ever allowed his fantasies of a domestic, healing life to go, and much more so on Niklaus' behalf than on his own. But the truth is... It was there, worn out and devoid of substance, no matter how long he held his breath trying to suffocate and drown it, still there all the same: that damned desire to have a human experience.

He would never strike a bargain with Esther, of course, and he doesn't think he would ever have the courage to give up on forever for a chance at a mortal life either. He's glad enough watching his niece grow up, taking care of her, being there for his siblings. But, perhaps, there's something else he could do to make sure his mother will leave them well alone...

"You and I both know what our mother is capable of, how far she's willing to go to get what she wants. There are no limits to her wickedness. I do wonder, however, if there was a way she would relent and let us be... What if all that mother needs is a victory?"

"Let her find it somewhere else. Not you," Rebekah objects firmly. "Besides, she wants all three of us."

"She has Kol. She has Finn. Perhaps, in the end, a simple majority will do."

"Do you really think she would take that?"

"I don't know. But at this point, we have to consider every possibility." He casts his eyes down, picking out the distant sounds of Niklaus, Caroline and their baby inside the house. "Stakes are too high now," he says quietly, but resolutely. "We can't risk gambling anymore."

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Caroline has to say, Rebekah's built the nicest bonfire she's ever seen on someone's yard. Eve looks at it with wide-eyed wonder as Klaus lights it up. The wide, radiant smile splitting Caroline's face in two as she points to the dancing flames going up in the air doesn't hide the magnitude of her happiness.

Rebekah comes trotting from inside the house, waving an old Polaroid camera in the air. "Hey! Look what I found! I wonder if it'll work."

"Oh, bloody hell," Klaus grunts, planting his hands on his hips and turning away from his sister.

Caroline would be more bothered by his grumpiness if she couldn't see it for what it really is: awkwardness. Klaus doesn't know how to handle himself around this kind of domesticity: familial traditions that don't involve skinning enemies or drinking blood, bonfires, babies. He has no idea what to do, and so he does the only thing he can: he pouts. It's kind of adorable, really.

"Careful, your anti-social is showing," Caroline teases him around a chuckle. He simply huffs out in indignation, shaking his head.

"Come on, let's try," Rebekah continues, ignoring his obvious disgruntlement, beckoning everyone to hurdle together. "Nik, do you think you can cram us all into a selfie?"

"Niklaus is the virtuoso of cramming his siblings into confined spaces," Elijah remarks.

Klaus shoots daggers at his brother, twisting his lips into a displeased pout. "I'm so glad I traveled hundreds of miles to visit my mentally ill brother only to have him insult me to my face,” he says, snatching the camera from Rebekah’s hands.

Elijah smirks, but Rebekah slaps both her brothers into taking position for the photo. Klaus points the camera towards them, Caroline stands next to him with the baby and Elijah on the other end, with Rebekah between the two of them.

Caroline perches on Klaus' shoulder, waiting for the photo to appear. She feels her heart so full staring at the result, even if Klaus is still sporting a statement pout to make it clear he did not want to be in the picture. The man has a giant portrait of himself wearing a white tux and a white top hat in the ballroom, but ask him to pose for a polaroid and it's the end of the world. He looks good even grumpy, though, the gone genes bastard. It's their first record together as a family, the first moment with Eve.

"I wish it could always be like this," Rebekah says.

"If only wishes were horses..." Elijah starts.

"Beggars would ride," Klaus finishes. "You realize we'll have to burn it, don’t you? You want me to make a wish for the family, Rebekah. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but it does. We can't risk this falling into the wrong hands." He hands the photo over to Caroline, almost asking for someone to destroy it for him. She suddenly understands his reluctance wasn't all about not liking photographs. As always, he was thinking one step ahead of everyone.

Caroline looks very closely at the polaroid with a sinking feeling, committing it to memory. This one brief, happy moment with all of them together. Their first. She makes a promise to herself before throwing the photo in the fire, that it won't be their last. That is her wish as she watches the picture burn, melt away and deform until she can't see any of their faces anymore.

"No," Rebekah says all of a sudden, stomping her foot down. "This isn't right. We deserve this - we've _earned_ this. We went through a thousand years of misery and darkness, Caroline died for her daughter to be here. It's not fair. I won't let it slip away." She stops, swallows. "I know what to do to stop Esther."

"Rebekah, no," Elijah objects.

She ignores him. "I'm gonna take her deal. And when I do, I'm taking her down with me."

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Klaus pulls the curtains open. On the porch outside, Caroline sways gently on a rocking chair, feeding Eve a bottle with the most adoring look on her face. While the air surrounding her is serene and gentle, inside the house, the three Mikaelsons are having a most unsavory conversation.

Despite his and Elijah's vehement protests, Rebekah is determined. She is convinced that she can use the moment their mother triggers the body-swapping spell to attack her. Her confidence, however commendable, has one fatal flaw: she hasn't spent the last six months handling Esther's wretchedness. His sister seems to have forgotten how ruthless and clever Esther can be.

"It'll work," Rebekah insists. "She will be distracted during the spell. She'll be vulnerable."

"No, Rebekah, how many times do we have to say it? If we kill her, she body jumps," he says moodily.

"Then stop her from body jumping."

"If I knew how to bloody stop her from jumping, don't you think I would've happily murdered her ages ago?"

"Well, ages ago you didn't have a Harvest girl or a Mikaelson witch. Kol knows all of her tricks and Davina will do whatever he says."

"Are you both insane?" Elijah cuts in.

"Hardly, Elijah. It was your idea. You were the one who said she needed a win, and if we get this right, she'll have one." Elijah shuffles uncomfortably, deliberately facing away when Klaus' gaze cuts to him with a questioning frown.

This doesn't sound like something Elijah would do, risk giving up eternity to live in a witch's body. Unlike Rebekah, who never made a mystery of her unfortunate inclinations and fought Klaus for a chance to take the cure, or even Kol, who always missed his brief days as a magic practitioner, Elijah never gave any hints that he longed for a mortal life. He rejoiced in being a vampire, eternal and fierce, just as much as Klaus, even if his immortality was the cause for a few heartbreaks over the years. Hasn't it been like that for all of them? Even him, if he's being completely honest. Not often, though. He's hardly ever regretted having eternity laid out before him. All his life, Klaus believed Elijah understood him and accepted his excesses because he felt the same way.

It's strange that he would change his mind now, and Klaus is very curious as to why that would be. It rubs him wrong, so to speak, spelling issues lying deeper than he would've thought. It could merely be that Eve has made him question his own ambitions, long for easier times, resent not having a child of his own, which is certainly a suggestion their mother must've put on Elijah's plate, since she did the same for him. But maybe... This is yet another lingering effect of Esther's torture, causing Elijah such affliction that he'd be willing to give it all up just to be freed of the torment. This - mortality, a human body - would be a comfort.

Whatever the reason, Klaus does not like it in the least. The idea that his brother would want to leave him... No. Klaus does not appreciate it at all.

"And if we get it wrong, you'll no longer be in your own body," Elijah counters.

"Would that be the worst thing? You were ready to do it yourself."

"It was a foolish moment and one that you sagely dissuaded me from," he says, not sounding nearly as convincing as Klaus would wish him to.

"Hopefully, we'll get lucky and stop the spell before I have to jump."

"And if we're not, you get what you always wanted," Klaus confronts her grimly after watching his siblings' back-and-forth with growing discomfort. "I mean, that's what you're saying, isn't it? You're willing to lose."

"I'm willing to risk losing, yes."

Klaus' gaze bores deeply into his sister's, searching. All he sees is an ironclad resolve and the certainty that, whatever the outcome, Rebekah won't be too disappointed. He was never on board with her decision to become human, never willing to let his favorite sibling go, but... Everything's different for the two of them now. It's not just about his ego or how overprotective he gets about his little sister. He has a daughter now. Rebekah's willing to risk it for herself, but for Eve as well. And if Klaus has to let her go... He'll reluctantly allow her to fulfill her lifelong dream of inhabiting a mortal body.

This is a time for sacrifices. He's made one when he murdered Ansel. Perhaps this is Rebekah's. For once, he can understand her motivations.

"We need to find someone for her to jump into," he says to Elijah. "Someone anonymous, someone who could disappear with Eve and no one would ever track down."

"Rebekah..." Elijah says, remorse shining through. "We've been together for centuries. If you were human..."

"When I'm old and wrinkly, you can dump me back into my old body," she dismisses with a flippant wave of her hand, a smirk tugging at her lips as her look slides back to his. "Nik already has a coffin he can stall me in."

He's certainly not taking her bait. There's nothing even remotely amusing about this.

"But to trust Kol?" Elijah asks.

"It's not about trust, Elijah. It's about finding the proper leverage."

"She's right," he says. "Kol will do what's best for Kol. We just have to meet his price."

"And we have to meet it fast," Caroline says as he walks in, a shadow darkening her features even as the baby naps against her chest. "I just got a call from Cami. She woke up with puncture wounds up and down her spine and no memory of how it happened. I read about body-jumping spells. That's a byproduct of preparation. Your mother is grooming her to be a vessel." She casts her eyes at Rebekah. "And she's probably doing it for you."

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Marcel resists the urge to let his fists swing as a wolfish smile breaks onto Kol's face. If Kol is happy, he is not, it's as simple as that.

But extreme trials demand extreme solutions, and unfortunately, to get rid of this rock on their shoes called Esther, it seems they need to keep that smug bastard smiling.

He's certain there'll be plenty of opportunities for that punch later, though. He can bid his time.

Klaus has just filled him in on Cami's drama. They're running out of time and need to act fast. Klaus says they have a plan to thwart Esther once and for all, but for that, Kol will have to put through his first test, prove they can count on this newly negotiated allegiance. Marcel has his doubts. Already he suspects the sneaky bastard is up to something.

Not long after Klaus left, Davina arrived. All day, the two of them have been prowling around the compound, whispering. Marcel tried to follow their footsteps, but he has to split his attention between the dynamic duo and Finn. It's hard to tell which of the resurrected Mikaelsons he trusts less: the one who hates them openly, or the one who pretends to be their side.

"Be happy to help," Kol says, motioning his hand in a _be my guest_ sort of way when Marcel passes the information on to him.

"In exchange for what?" he fires back. "From all the sneaking around today, you're clearly in need of something."

Kol's reply comes quick and easy, as though it was just on the tip of his tongue. "If you want me to find a new body for Rebekah, I want the Fauline diamond you stole from me back in 1914."

Marcel slits his eyes at him. He hadn't thought of that damn diamond in decades, but he remembers it well. Last time Kol was wreaking havoc around New Orleans, some prominent people - political allies, nonetheless - started mysteriously dying. The fact _some_ of their valuable possessions disappeared indicated to the police that they had a common thief, but Marcel knew better. The thief only ever took jewelry, and more specifically, diamonds. Everything else - including much more valuable items - was left behind. Either that was one burglar with very specific tastes, or they were dealing with something else.

In 1914, Dowager Fauline, one of the wealthiest people in New Orleans, was tragically killed in a massacre at the theater that left no doubt as to the supernatural underlings of the event. Kol got sloppy - or, more likely, impatient. He'd been looking for a way to gain access to her mansion, but the dowager was known for her hatred of vampires and for how careful she was with her friendships. Getting an invitation into her home was a tough grind. So Kol decided to eliminate the hindrance.

They only had to follow their suspect for a bit to find him and two of his closest witchy friends rummaging through the poor old woman's home, mere hours after her murder. Marcel had been keeping eyes on those three for years, but never had any proof that they were actually up to something. The siblings always dismissed his suspicions with a wave of their hands. _That's Kol, just leave him_ or _He's just having some fun with his wicked little gizmos, no matter_ . Except his _gizmos_ were dark objects, and when those started escaping their hands and spreading chaos, Klaus finally accepted they had a potential problem they had to deal with.

Marcel was deep into an investigation on _where_ they went to create those objects and have their little meetings, but the Dowager's murder piqued his interest. He knew exactly what Kol would be after: one of the most distinguished items in the woman’s collection was a perfect paragon diamond. He and Klaus waited for the three culprits to go in, thwarted the little spell they cast and waited for Kol to come out with the spoils of his crime. Because he was a Mikaelson, he got to walk free - minus the diamond, of course. His friends weren't so lucky. Klaus had a witch friendly to them curse the house so that Kol's two accomplices could never leave. With time, the witches transformed the mansion into some kind of nut house for deviant members of their covens. Because of that curse, no one that's gone in has even come out.

Kol continued to test his siblings' patience and ended up daggered not long after, during a Christmas bash at the compound, after Rebekah revealed to Klaus that she’s caught him rummaging through his things after the diamond and tried to rally her against him.

But Marcel never did find out why he was so keen on that diamond.

"What do you plan to do with it?" he asks.

Kol shrugs nonchalantly. "Does it matter?"

"It matters to Klaus. Depending on what it is, it matters to me, too."

Kol's eyes flash with mischief. "You see, I could fib here, but I want to be on the up about it. I need a weapon I can use to protect myself against Nik, and the diamond helps me make it." Before Marcel can offer his obvious objection, he raises his voice above. "It's not to kill him, simply a matter of self-defense, only to be used out of absolute necessity. It's fair trade, Marcel," he pushes. "I get free of my wackadoodle mum, I acquire the means by which to defend myself against a volatile brother, should the need arise, and, well... If it all goes well, perhaps you'll let me near Davina without bodily harm." He punctuates his pitch with a cheeky grin.

Marcel smiles in return, but it doesn't quite meet the threat in his eyes.

"I don't like you, Kol," he says.

"You don't have to. This is a simple matter of business."

He despises it so much when he's forced to negotiate with people he hates. Especially when they're right.

"So," Kol continues. "Should I call Nik back or should you?"

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Caroline's heart feels tight as she watches Klaus place a kiss on Eve's head and put her down on the traveling crib. Their little bubble of contentment didn't last long at all. Not even a full day of playing happy family out here in Middle-of-Nowhere, Arkansas. Caroline is not even trying to disguise her dejection, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a sullen pout on her face.

"While we're gone," Klaus starts, touching the tip of his daughter's nose playfully, smiling when she makes a little giggly noise. "Perhaps you could talk to Elijah."

"Talk about what?"

"About what happened while he was under mother's control." Klaus turns to her, his soft expression hardened all of a sudden. "He's not himself. I've never seen Elijah like this before. He looks... Frail. Like he's going to fall apart at any moment. Esther is a difficult enough enemy to fight with Elijah, without him... I need my brother wholesome."

"I don't know how I could possibly help."

"He trusts you."

An idea suddenly flares up to life in Caroline's head. Kind of crazy, a little risky, Klaus is definitely going to hate it - but it might solve several problems at once.

"You know... There's something we could do to help Elijah, and also do a good thing to a very good friend in need," she starts, trying to butter him up. His eyes narrow suspiciously. "When you return, bring Cami here with you."

He cocks his head. "Why would I do that?"

"Because clearly she's being targeted by your mother, so we should get her out of the danger zone. She'll be safe here. _And_ she's a great therapist. You liked talking to her, right? Maybe she'll know exactly how to get through to Elijah."

"Aren't you forgetting anything?" he motions towards the baby. "Bring her here and let her in on our little secret?"

"We can trust her, Klaus. You know that. You _did_."

"No, what I _did_ was compel her to forget everything I ever told her. _You_ were the one who gave her back her memories, I was never on board with that."

"Well, thank God I did," Caroline slams, putting her foot down. "Cami never once betrayed us, and becoming aware of all the dangers surrounding her might've actually saved her life more than once. In fact, she put herself willingly at risk to help us. She was there to take on the Guerreras, she helped me capture your brother, rescue Oliver. Her proximity to us is the very reason your mother took notice of her, and now -"

"All right, all right. Good God," he grumbles sourly. "I get it, she's a friend, she's in danger. Fine. Have it your way."

Caroline grins, satisfied. If you can't convince them, badger them into submission. "Thank you."

Klaus approaches her shaking his head in reproach of her methods, but biting back on a grin. He winds a curl around a finger, then pulls it behind her ear tenderly, his knuckles grazing her skin. "At the slightest sign of danger, even if it's just a feeble suspicion -"

"I know," she says, nodding her head once. "Run for the hills. We'll be fine."

Klaus places a kiss on her cheek and turns to leave, but Caroline closes her fingers around the fabric of his sweater and pulls him close again, fear rearing its ugly head in her stomach once more. These days you never know what will happen when someone goes out to face Esther. Caroline has a feeling if that woman got her hands on Klaus, his treatment would be much worse than Elijah's. "Come back, ok?" she says, voice pitched small and pleading. "Promise."

A lazy lopsided grin tugs at Klaus' lips, a single dimple cutting into his cheek. "I don't have to promise, love. I always come back.”

She gives in easily when he pulls her into him, capturing her mouth in a proper kiss. Caroline allows herself to relax for a moment in the gentleness of that kiss, basking in all that reassurance, trying to store it for when doubt comes creeping in. Klaus touches a hand to the side of her neck, then slides it down to her shoulder, her arms, until eventually giving her hand a little squeeze before stepping away.

"Take care of our littlest wolf," he says, and then he's out the door.

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Rebekah never thought she would live to see the day she'd miss the sound of Nik's yammering. He's been awfully quiet since they left the house, his eyes focused ahead on the road, but his mind clearly miles and miles distant. Such a difference from when he arrived at the property…

It was so adorable, the way he and Caroline gushed over their baby, their eyes sparkling as though they'd never seen anything more beautiful or precious - which, in all honesty, they hadn't.

Rebekah never thought she'd see her brother drooling over a baby. She wishes she could photograph that moment and save it for eternity, to rub it in his face whenever he starts throwing his alpha-male tantrums. That little girl warms even Nik's cold, rock-hard heart. But truth be told, it wasn't _entirely_ Eve's doing. He seemed to take a lot of pleasure in watching Caroline melt around her baby, making all those silly voices and faces and easing into the role of proud mama as though she'd never had to step out of it at all. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. Rebekah knows the feeling. She felt like that the second she held her niece in her arms, like a thousand years of bloodlust and violence were nothing compared to the love she felt for that girl.

It may be awful of her to think like that considering the chain of events that led to Eve being separated from her parents, but Rebekah's so grateful for the six months she got to spend with her niece. It was the most human she's ever felt and, come what may, whether she gets jumped into a new body or if she continues inside her own, she won't ever forget that feeling. Her humanity may have lain dormant for centuries, but Eve brought it all back to the surface, and she never wants to let it go.

She only wishes Nik could stay in his silly dad mode as well. The smile he had on his face, the glint in his eyes, the softness with which he took the girl in his arms, staring at her so adoringly, like he could not believe he'd been the architect of so much perfection. It reminded Rebekah of the sweet boy he once was, the one who used to hold her hand during the storms and carve her wooden knights for when she got scared. She finally sees why Elijah was so hopeful about the child right off the bat. Rebekah thought he'd lost his mind, but she understands it now, and it wasn't misguided at all.

But the look she sees on her brother’s face now... It's dark. That crazed sparkle again, the hybrid king already settled back into place. The more their mother tries to hit him where it hurts most, the closer to the edge she pushes Nik. If this goes on for long, he'll lose it, and then not even all the cute babies in the world will be enough to save his soul from eternal damnation.

It just makes her all the more determined to push through with this and get it over with, no matter what.

Still... He might be getting carried away with some things.

"You're mad to give Kol that diamond," she speaks after a moment, trying to strike up conversation before the ominous silence chokes her to death. She feels like she's walking to the guillotine right now. Might as well enjoy her final moments.

"Our little brother has been plotting against me for years and hasn't got a lick of it right."

"So you're counting on his incompetence to remain unharmed? That's one hell of a gamble, Nik."

"I'll take my chances. Do you know what to do?"

"Yes, I've got it. But if it doesn't go to plan, will you handle my body with care, please? I may miss the old model."

"If everything goes south, I'll be there to pull you out," he says softly, casting her a glance. "We just have to take Esther down before she body jumps. I don't want all of this to have been for nothing."

"We also need to make sure Kol will follow through on his promise and prepare a new body for me. No offense to your therapist, but I really don't want to inhabit the body of Marcel's latest ex. Too awkward."

Klaus' eyebrows bunch together. "Camille and Marcel...?"

"Do you even see anything that isn't your own belly button, Nik? Or Caroline's, for that matter. That's the least well-kept non-secret of the decade. "

He purses his lips, giving her a pointed look. "Don't worry. Nobody wants you in Camille's body. Caroline's awfully protective of her. And if we wish for you to be able to disappear with Eve, it can't be in the body of someone Marcel knows. Intimately, it seems. It would be only too easy to track you down."

"Glad we agree on that." Rebekah turns her face to her brother, smiling affectionately. "You and I, on the same team. It must be Christmas."

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Almost as soon as Klaus and Rebekah left, Elijah retired into one of the rooms in the house. Caroline was kept busy with the baby for a long while, didn't really think much of it. Now that she goes to find him, however, she realizes he's exactly where he's been for the past so many hours, has barely moved a muscle: sitting on the couch, unblinking stare fixed on the fireplace.

Klaus was right. He's not well. She wonders what kind of thing goes through his head when he disappears into his thoughts like that. Nothing good, she bets. And, knowing Elijah, nothing he probably wants to talk about.

She's glad he didn't witness her struggle to put the baby to sleep, though. Especially the part where she broke down crying, torn between thinking that she was the worst mother in the world, and that her daughter would only ever be comfortable with Rebekah putting her to bed. That last part made her cry a little harder. It was… Embarrassing.

Now that the spiraling panic is mostly gone and Caroline has managed to recompose herself, there are other things on her mind. Other than her failing motherly skills, that is. Things she'd managed to cast away and not think about all day long, but that have resurfaced with full force as the night fell.

This little baby interlude and everything that's happened has gotten her thinking. What would have only been a piece of information before, something she would pass along because she thought it was relevant, however not feasible, has grown into a different beast altogether. Under new light, it has become tangible, gained the contours of an idea, heavier with all the implications attached. And suddenly Caroline wants to _scream_.

The words are lodged behind her throat like a confession, desperate to come out. She wants to tell someone, to hear some much-needed advice. Elijah would normally be the one she would go to for something like this. He's reasonable and level-headed and wise, he would know exactly what to say, what to do. Except now he's got all these problems of his own that are much worse and more pressing than hers, and Caroline doesn't want to be insensitive.

It's not what Klaus had in mind when he asked her to talk to Elijah, but she already had a conversation with him. He didn't share a lot about his feelings, but Caroline hardly thinks he would go any further than that. Elijah is not much better than Klaus when it comes to handling overwhelming emotions. Other people's, sure, he's great; his own? Kind of a mess. Great listener, not so much of a talker. She wouldn't even know where to start. Caroline has shared how she feels, though, was as honest as she could be, and she thinks it might've resonated with him, even if just a tiny bit. He knows she's there for whatever he needs, that she'll be on his side always, no matter what.

So maybe talking about her dilemma will distract him from his own problems, get his mind off the trauma and the nightmares. It's a plan, at least. Or something. More like an excuse, if she's honest.

Caroline clears her throat to catch his attention before stepping gingerly into the room. "Finally put the baby to sleep," she announces. "A bit of a battle, but I managed. I think my mothering skills are in need of honing."

Elijah smiles pleasantly. "It seems to me like you're doing great. Schooling Niklaus and everything."

Caroline rolls her eyes as she takes a seat on an armchair, folding her legs under her body. "Like that sets the bar high. There are bears out there with more parenting instincts than him."

Elijah huffs out a little laugh under his breath. "Can't say I disagree."

"I spent a _lot_ of time watching YouTube tutorials. How to change diapers, how to bathe a small child, how best to feed them, to rock them to sleep, how to decipher the different types of crying, and on and on and on. I had no idea if I'd ever really get the chance to do any of these things, how long she'd be away for. It just... Made me feel better to think that I'd be ready to be a mom, should the opportunity ever come knocking." She pauses, eyes flickering away from him. "And I was afraid she'd reject me if I sucked at it. Neurotic, huh?"

Elijah's smile is warm and, for the first time, it actually meets his eyes. "That's a very Caroline thing to do."

She chuckles. "Yeah. A control freak on steroids, that pretty much sums me up."

"That's not what I said."

"I know. I'm the one saying it. I'm very self-aware."

"You're a terrific mother, Caroline."

"I didn't really feel like that taking two hours to get a whining baby to sleep, but... I appreciate your faith in me." She lets the silence spool out between them for a moment, easing into the comfort of company, trying ease away the knot at the pit of her stomach. And then, "So, uh... Klaus wanted me to talk to you... About you. About what happened while you were with your mother. _But_... I thought maybe, instead of doing that... You'd rather talk about... Me." Elijah cocks her an eyebrow. "It's a little selfish, I know. I kind of... Need to vent. And maybe you can help me figure something out."

At his inviting expression, apparently glad to discuss anything that isn't himself and his unsound state of mind, Caroline swallows and then ploughs on. "It's about the wolves. You know how we've been trying to figure out a way to get them out of your mother's control? Well, Jackson... He learned something that would allow us to get the pack back. They'd be able to control their transformations without the rings and the only thing the wolves would have to give in return is their allegiance, answering to him as their alpha. So no more slavery; they'd be one big happy pack again. It would be a dent on your mother's strength, at the same time it would empower our side. Eve could maybe even go home, with an army ready to protect her."

"That sounds all very perfect. I sense a but coming."

Caroline casts her eyes down, picking on the chair's stuffing. "There is a catch. I'd have to, uhm… I'd have to... Marry Jackson."

Elijah's quiet for an awfully long time, his expression perfectly blank save for a light tightness around his eyes that makes Caroline want to curl up into a ball, crawl into a hole and never come out.

When he does finally speak, what he says is a very loaded, "What?"

"It's an ancient mystical ceremony, some alpha bonding ritual or whatever," she splutters, flailing nervously. "It's been a myth to the werewolves for centuries, but Klaus' father, Ansel, guaranteed to Jack that it's true. And that it would work with me, even though I'm not a werewolf."

"That does not have even the slightest blush of reason."

"That's exactly what I said. But Jackson explained that because I was turned by werewolf blood and am not a part of any vampire sire lines, the ritual would work all the same. It's like I have this... Wolf essence inside of me, because of Eve. And so, because I don't turn on full moons, all werewolves willing to accept Jackson as their leader, swearing allegiance to us by going to the ceremony, would inherit this quality. They would be able to control their forms and keep their lethal bites. Basically, the closest thing to a hybrid it could get."

"And all they'd have to do is attend the _wedding_ ceremony," Elijah says, stressing the word to make it sharp and pointy.

"Yeah," Caroline speaks around a sigh, deflating like a balloon. "We'd have to find a shaman, say some vows and... Honor those vows. That's kind of the key part, I guess."

"I would ask if you've shared this nonsense with Niklaus, but considering the general good mood he was in when you two arrived..." Caroline looks away again, feeling the burn of shame. "I thought he was overreacting every time he said that wolf was in over his head, but it never would've crossed my mind that he would dare go as far as proposing to you."

"He didn't. He wasn't even going to tell me, I kind of... Forced it out of him."

"Honestly, Caroline, I cannot fathom how you can even consider this ludicrous idea."

"I can’t. That's the thing. I can't imagine doing this either, but... I keep thinking maybe I should."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it, really? Your sister is on her way to offer herself up as sacrificial lamb to your mother. Your brother killed his _own father_ , a man he'd dreamt of meeting his entire life. All for my daughter, to keep her safe. It seems to me like everyone is sacrificing something. Isn't it selfish of me to not even _consider_ it?"

"You've already sacrificed enough."

"Elijah, this could be the solution to all our problems. It could rally every wolf under us - Jackson _and_ me. It would give my daughter the wolf army Klaus has been talking about for ages. He's been working to get this since he first set foot into this city. This might be the only chance we get. All I have to do is -"

"Relinquish every right to genuine happiness by tying yourself in a loveless marriage for the rest of his life while the man you actually love finally loses himself to the darkness inside of him," Elijah says, with a piercing gaze. His voice remained even, but Caroline could hear every tone of his reproach. "Have you considered what this will do to Niklaus?"

"Why do you think I haven't told him? But I also have to consider what all this is _already_ doing to him. I don't know if you've noticed, but he's not... Stable. Paranoia is starting to get to him again. I see it every day. He doesn't trust anything or anyone, thinks everyone is out to get him. At this rate, it won't be long before he doesn't trust his own shadow. I think... I think he's come to realize that there is absolutely nothing in this world he wouldn't do for Eve, and as much as I love that he finally has this fatherly feeling, I have to say it scares me a little bit, too. I want Klaus to love his daughter and protect her with everything he's got, but I don't want him to feel like he has to burn down the whole world to the ground for that, like that is the only way to keep her safe."

"And you think the answer to this is to go out and marry someone else?"

"You're talking like I _want_ to get married," she protests, heat creeping into her tone. "Killing Ansel _crushed_ Klaus. I don't think I've ever seen him that devastated. He didn't do it out of spite or anger or because he was lashing out. He genuinely felt like he didn't have a choice, and it broke his heart. I don't want to marry Jackson, but... If getting hitched to some other guy gives us the tools to beat Finn and your mother, bring peace to our home and keep my daughter safe... Is it really right for me to just toss it out without even so much as a second thought because of my _happiness_? Look around. No one's happy."

Elijah regards her pensively for a spell. "I don't know what to tell you, Caroline. What you say is perfectly reasonable and in any other circumstances, I would be the first to tell you to go ahead, if you feel that's the right thing to do, but... It's Niklaus we're talking about. As selflessly fatherly as he might be feeling, the logic will not apply to you. The things he's doing, are not just for Eve - it's for you, too. He's trying to make it up for last year, and I cannot reprimand him for it. It might've occurred to him that, in order to ensure his daughter's safety, he'll have to give up everything - our home, New Orleans, myself, Rebekah... But I doubt it has occurred to him giving _you_ up. He wouldn’t."

Caroline's heart plummets, heavy with the weight of guilt and the ache of responsibility. "I don't want to give him up either," she says, emotion bleeding into her voice. "But we're at war now, and we're each fighting with everything we have. I have before me the chance to actually change the tides in our favor. Maybe love is the thing that _I_ have to sacrifice."

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Rebekah takes a deep, steadying breath as her mother prepares the body jumping spell a few feet away from her. She clenches her hands tightly closed, her nails digging painfully into her palms.

The plan is already in motion. If it'll float or sink, it remains to be seen, but point is, they're beyond turning back now. As determined as Rebekah is, the chill at the pit of her stomach is real.

Right off the bat, things are far from ideal. Kol prepared the body of a woman named Angelica Barker to be Rebekah's vessel. She was one of Marcel's vampire prospects, one he turned away because, in his words, she was _too lost_ , would never make it as a vampire. So not perfect, but manageable. The real problem is that, in order for the spell to work, Kol needed to have access to their mother's hourglass, which she uses to lock up her enchantments. She keeps it safely at the Lycée, right where she can see it. He couldn't just go back empty handed after being gone for so long, she'd be suspicious, especially since Finn is also AWOL, so he asked for one more thing. The thing their mother entrusted him to recover: the white oak stake. Marcel was firmly against it, wanted to call the whole thing off, but, in a rare show of faith, or perhaps despair, Klaus himself gave the stake to their brother, trusting that it would be returned as soon as the whole thing was done.

According to Kol, the stake was just an insurance, a way to get Esther to trust him. She wants to move them into new bodies, not to kill them. Still, knowing her mother has the stake gives Rebekah major anxiety fits.

While Rebekah allowed Esther to sweet-talk her into joining her side, Kol tapered with her hourglass, locking it with the one he left at the compound, where Davina and Camille are waiting with Marcel. When they reach the apex of the spell here, Davina is supposed to start some kind of jamming counter-spell on the other end, keeping the body-jump from working long enough for Klaus to take down Esther. Rebekah used the opportunity at the Lycée to add a little spice of her own... But it is all too risky still.

Rebekah _hates_ to depend so much on so many people she can't fully trust. Too many hands, too many opportunities for failure and betrayal. This would be the perfect chance for Kol and Davina to get revenge on her and Klaus for whatever grievances they might have. If anything goes wrong, the tiniest of slips... And they're all ruined.

She exchanges a look with Kol, who's standing next to their mother by the altar in front of the Lycée. The nervous twitch on his jaw does not bring Rebekah any comfort. She knows Nik is here somewhere as well, watching and waiting, and _that_ makes her feel a little bit better. Even if he's by far the brother who gives most trouble these days, he's also the one who used to calm her down and hold her hand when she was a child. Rebekah almost wishes she'd brought that little wooden knight with her, but she left it in Eve's bag. It calms her niece too, just as it did her, when she was a child.

Esther stops chanting for a moment, catching Rebekah's attention again, her heart skipping a couple of beats as she waits for the fateful moment of truth. She puts her hand behind the altar and takes out the white oak stake, putting it down next to her cauldron.

"What the bloody hell is that doing here?!" Rebekah demands.

"As each of you comes to your senses and takes my offer, I will destroy your vampire bodies," Esther explains simply.

Rebekah immediately looks at Kol, grinding her teeth together, ready to wrap her hands around that little traitor's neck.

Kol looks nervously at her. "Mother, you said you wanted the stake to protect them.”

"Yes, but not in their current bodies. Once they accept my offer, I will be righting two wrongs. Having brought this evil into the world, and having subjected my own children to it, it is my duty to end it, once and for all." Esther continues, as cool as ever, like she isn't talking about murder. Does that woman's wickedness know no end?

"No. That wasn't the deal. Stop the spell, mother!" Rebekah orders.

"The spell is already done. I prepared it to be locked in the moment I turned over the hourglass."

"Mother, think this through," Rebekah pleads. "You gave birth to this body, you can't destroy it."

"I am only destroying its flesh. Your beautiful soul will live on in the body of another. You know, back when I first started diving my plan, while I was still on the Other Side, I'd chosen Caroline Forbes to be your vessel. I thought she was a fine fit, also a witch, and it was the perfect way to rattle your brothers, of course, as well as a way to save her from their influence. She'd get to have the life she deserved through you." Rebekah doesn't know where Klaus is, but she can almost sense his eyes blasting holes through Esther right now, every hair on her body is bristling with the static energy radiating off the shadows. She doesn't think he'll stay hidden for much longer. "Sad that it wasn't to be. But I've chosen well for you. A beautiful young girl, strong and full of life."

" _Mother_!" Klaus rumbles, his voice thundering through the night, thrumming with anger. "Stop the spell! You and your traitorous son!"

"Nik, I didn't know anything about it, I swear," Kol defends himself, a panicked expression on this unfamiliar face.

"Oh, good," Esther drawls dripping irony. "I'm glad you two boys are friends again. I did wonder what you'd been up to in your time away, Kol. Now I know."

"Stop the blasted spell!" Nik demands once more.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, son.”

"Anything is possible." Nik steps in front of Rebekah, shielding her body from their mother. "Take me instead."

"Nik, no!"

"If only you'd taken my offer when it was still mine to give," Esther says with spite. "Unfortunately, you left me no choice but to make a deal with Mikael."

Fear coils around Rebekah's insides, cold rushing up her spine. "Mikael?" she huffs out, turning to Klaus.

"When Finn and Kol went missing, I needed a new ally. All he wanted was the right to kill you."

A shadows flashes across his eyes, his jaw clenching tight. Rebekah senses him bristling with anger next to her, his whole body tensing up like he's about to explode.

"Kol, I would ask you to deliver the stake to your father, but it seems your loyalties have been compromised."

"Stop the spell, Esther!" Klaus roars again, pure, feral rage now.

A cruel smile pulls at Esther's mouth, sheer malice in her eyes as she looks down at Klaus. "So you're feeling murderous again. You should know I've already chosen my next body."

" _Now_!" Kol's shout cuts through the night at the exact moment the sand in the hourglass is done falling, when the spell is clocked to take effect. This is it, then, when Esther is most vulnerable, all her magic being sucked into the enchantment, leaving her nearly powerless.

Nik wastes no time. In a blur, he's jumping over her, driving a dagger through her neck with ferocity. For a brief second, Rebekah almost believes they've done it. Stopped the jump, hindered the spell and killed Esther in her weakest hour. But then her vision darkens until she can't see a thing, a sharp dull pain constricting her lungs, something cold and heavy pulling at her, dragging her down. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and then there is no more.

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When Esther starts to stir awake, Klaus' lips pull into a calm, delighted grin. He'd been waiting patiently for her to come to. It took forever. He noticed the hitch on her breath as she becomes aware that something is not quite right with her, that tendril of fear unfurling as realization dawns. This is almost as gratifying as seeing light go out in her wicked eyes.

It took her so long to come back that Klaus was beginning to worry the body-jump spell had taken effect after all. Kol assured him it was impossible, that her magic had been completely drained the moment Klaus drove the dagger through her, she couldn't have managed to complete Rebekah's spell and her own at the same time. While Esther slept, he took Rebekah's body safely back to the compound, checked that Camille was still herself. As promised, Kol returned the white oak stake to him, swearing by everything holy and sacred that he had no idea of their mother's evil plans. As suspicious as Klaus is of his little brother's intentions, he believed him. In that regard, anyway.

The fact Camille was still herself while Rebekah remained out cold meant that they'd failed to stop the spell in time. Esther's magic is powerful and precise, and they were simply not fast enough. As frustrated with his own failure as he is, Klaus is comforted by the fact that his sister didn't end up in Camille's body and will be waking up any moment now in one Angelica Barker's skin, somewhere in New Orleans. As soon as she can, she'll go straight to the safe house, not risking being seen around the compound. The less people know who she is, the easier it will be for her to vanish, and the safer both her and Eve will be.

It's the outcome Klaus would've wanted, of course, but it's not the worst of his current problems. While they focused on getting the plan in motion, somebody broke into the compound and freed Finn. If Klaus had to hazard a guess, he'd bet all his money on the other devil in his life, Mikael. The thought of that man even so much as setting foot into his home brings a sour taste to Klaus' mouth.

He put his little sister to sleep in her coffin with his heart hung heavy. For the first time ever, seeing her beautiful figure inside a box filled Klaus with sorrow. Rebekah took care of his daughter for six months so diligently, kept her safe and healthy and strong. She deserved better than this. He made her a promise, though, that he would fix this by whatever means necessary. Kol knows every shade of their mother's magic. He'll figure out how to reverse the body-jump and Rebekah will be returned to her full glory, just as soon as they put an end to Finn and Mikael.

Good God, this is one endless torment…

For the time being, however, they may rejoice in scratching one name off their list. One in a list of hundreds. Not much, true, but enough to put a satisfied smile on Klaus' face.

The woman who orchestrated his daughter's murder. Who was behind Caroline's brutal assassination. Who broke Elijah after hours and hours of vicious torture. Who brought his real father back from the dead with the sole intent of hurting him. And who would sell him out to the monster she allowed to shape him into the raging beast she claims to be so ashamed of now. That woman is gone, for good this time. And with an impish little twist that is _oh_ , so delightful.

"Hello, mother," he greets her merrily, throwing two blood bags at her. Klaus crosses his arms and leans against the entrance of the tomb. Kol had it spelled against sneaky little mothers. She won't be going anywhere, anytime soon.

Dimples dent deeply into his cheeks when he sees her frightened eyes. She looks so small now, just a tiny, old woman, weak and completely at his mercy. "What have you done?" she asks in a shaky voice.

"You sold me out to that butcher Mikael like I were nothing more than chattel. All this trouble trying to convince me that I was loved and important, and you were willing to send me to my death without hesitation. And now you ask me what I have done."

Esther pushes herself up on unsteady legs. Her eyes fall on the blood bags, and right about now, she's probably starting to feel a familiar rumble at the bottom of her stomach, hunger rising inside of her like a tide, unlike anything she's ever experienced. Even the darkest pits of her hatred and rancor weren't as all-consuming and mind-bending as this.

Her eyes widen in horror, a hand lifting to her mouth as though that will stop her from aching for that blood bag with every fiber of her being. Not many can resist feeding. He doubts Esther will have the same dogged determination Caroline did. She's not as strong as the woman she killed. She's a coward, his mother, hiding her failures and shame behind a veil of contempt for the creatures she birthed when she had Mikel put his sword through each and every one of her children as they slept, spending the next one thousand years blaming them for a horror they could've never even fathomed before she subjected them to it. No, Esther never had Caroline's character or her light. That woman was always made of shadow.

"I've done what every good son does, mother," he continues, words dripping poison. "I've followed the example of my parents. You taught me exactly how I should treat you. You must be feeling a little twitchy right about now. It's what happens when you're in transition."

"No..." Esther shakes her head in denial, stepping away from the bags. "That's not possible."

"Oh, but it is. You see, you may have thought you were one step ahead of us, but the truth is, Rebekah was two ahead of you."

Esther frowns, her mouth falling open in horror as understanding finally sinks. "The wine..."

While Kol distracted their mother with his usual whining at the Lycée, Bekah punctured her finger and sweetened the wine her mother was drinking with a few drops of her blood. Not nearly enough to leave a taste, but enough to trigger vampirism upon death. "You try so hard to make us feel weak and small, but we're every bit your children, mother. We're cunning and ruthless, just like you. You died with vampire blood in your system. It's a delicious irony because, as you know, you cannot be both witch and vampire. So now you can either be the thing you hate the most... Or you can be dead. For good. Your choice. Which is more than you ever gave us."

Klaus turns his back on her just as Esther's eyes fill with tears and flashes off into the night.

One monster down, two to go.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! ❤


	10. S02E10 Gonna Set Your Flag on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope that it shows. lol I expand here on the whole werewolf ceremony thing that I took and ran with in order to suit my KC purposes. Considering I'm rewriting a canonical story where vampires have children, I'm not so sorry about disrupting the show's mythology, tbh.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!

* * *

Klaus feels a thousand pounds lighter when he stops the car in front of the safe house. The pure, fresh air of the countryside, the peaceful quietness of a sunny day that extends for miles and miles of absolutely nothing and no one. Only that bright, white house with its picket fences reigning absolute like a beacon for as far as the eye can see.

The thrum of adrenaline coursing through him dissipates, giving space to something milder as he steps out of his car. This place is a bit like a retreat from the real world, as though the unrelenting horrors that have been chasing after his family cannot disturb the bubble of peace surrounding this property. He knows better than to allow himself to be carried away by his own naive fantasies, though. These things never last for long.

Klaus' stay will be a short one. He'll make a quick break, see that everything's going well, and then he'll be back on the road. He promised Caroline he'd be returning and that he'd bring Camille with him, and he's kept his word, but his presence is required at the French Quarter. New Orleans is on the brink of explosion. The sooner he gets rid of Finn, the sooner this mess will all be over.

It's a pity, really. Even though Klaus is every bit an enthusiast of great cities and more lavish and better decorated accommodations, he could really use a few days of the good simple life out here with Caroline and Eve. His general dislike of people has reached an all-time low these days. Everyone Klaus needs and cares for is either at the safe house or on their way there; the rest of the world may very well be damned, as far as he’s concerned.

Klaus opens the back door to retrieve the mountain of things Caroline's asked him to bring over from the compound. She compiled several long lists: one for herself, one for Elijah, one for the baby and one for basic items to restock the house. Caroline's organizational skills are quite something, indeed.

Camille takes a moment longer to get out of the car, with that look of uncertainty still dancing across her features, she hasn't yet decided whether to trust him or not. Those were six edgy hours they spent in the car on the way here. Klaus suspects she spent the whole time wondering if he wasn't maybe leading her towards an execution site. Under normal circumstances, he'd be amused by that kind of thing, relishing the fearful power he exerts over others. Right now, however, he just doesn't have the required frame of mind to be distracted by such things; he has enough concerns of his own to be mindful of Camille's. Her sad, puppy eyes and sidelong glances got boring rather fast. Klaus just tossed his phone to her and told her to ring Caroline herself, if she was so doubtful. It seemed to calm her down, but evidently not enough.

"Tell me again why you brought me to Arkansas?" she asks as she slams the door of his SUV shut.

"Finn won't find you here. And Caroline was rather persistent that I did."

"Is she really here?"

"You know, Camille, it hurts my feelings how you seem to find me so completely untrustworthy."

"Can you blame me?"

Klaus sighs. She does have a point. "Yes, she is here. And there's someone she wants you to meet."

Klaus bobs his head towards the house, making his way to the door. When they're almost to the front porch, Caroline comes out with Eve, a big smile plastered on her face as she greets her friend. Klaus huffs out an amused little laugh at the shock on Camille's face, her mouth slacking open in a cartoonish expression.

"Allow me to introduce you to the newest member of our clan," Klaus says, walking up the steps and placing a kiss on his daughter’s head, and then one on Caroline’s cheek. "The little troublemaker all the fuss has been about."

"This is Eve," Caroline says, waving one of the baby's little hands towards Cami.

"Oh my God," she gasps, unblinking green eyes bigger than ever. "You said... I thought... she was..." she stammers, all of her sentences being dropped along the way.

"The only way to truly protect her was to convince the world of her death," Klaus explains.

"I'm sorry. We couldn't tell you," Caroline adds.

Gingerly, Camille goes up the steps, a delighted smile finally breaking onto her lips. When she reaches out to Eve, she makes one of her little baby sounds, and Cami laughs. "Oh my God, she's perfect!" she coos, already melting. The baby does seem to have that effect on people.

Klaus gives her a moment to say hi, and then turns serious again. "I hope you understand. Once it's safe for you to leave here, our secret cannot leave with you."

Cami looks up at him, eyebrows joined together in a grateful expression. She nods, exchanging a smile with Caroline, and then quickly forgets about him again, all eyes for the child.

So maybe this wasn't the worst of ideas, after all. 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Now that we've entombed our mother, I intend to finish making the city safe for Eve, which to start means dealing with the lingering problem of Finn," Klaus says just as he finishes updating everyone on the latest French Quarter events.

Caroline hasn't missed New Orleans at all. The past three days she got to spend out here with her baby have been some of the best and most peaceful she's had in forever. She almost didn't want to know what happened. As long as everyone was alive and well and Klaus was back, she was fine either way.

If she didn't think she'd get a resounding  _ glare _ from Klaus, she'd suggest they just abandon the compound and move here. They could even build more houses, start a little village, pretend the world has ended and they are the sole survivors of some zombie apocalypse or whatever. She'd be fine with that. More than fine, even. Unfortunately, she thinks she'd be easily outvoted.

Elijah seems resigned to be here because of his current  _ condition _ , but he pretty much hates it. The only reason he hasn't been as snappy as Klaus when he's in one of his moods is because Elijah is probably incapable of being anything short of polite, but she can see it in his eyes how fed up he is. Being here is like solitary prison for him, kept away from civilization because they can't trust him not to on some crazy killing spree again. Caroline would feel more offended by his general feeling if he wasn't at least partially right - and if she wasn't just so goddamn happy to be with her daughter that she really does not care about anything else. Given everything she’s been through to get reunited with Eve, she’s more than earned the right to be selfish for a little while.

While Cami sits on the couch with the baby on her lap, only half-listening to what Klaus is saying, Elijah stands by the window, his back turned to them. Just hearing about the action going on in the Quarter and knowing that he can't be there is torture to him.

"The werewolves now answer exclusively to Finn," Klaus continues. "And I suspect he's feeling more vengeful than ever after spending a couple of days breathing through air holes."

"Once he figures out what you've done to your mother, he's gonna go off the deep end," Cami says.

"That's exactly why we need to keep you out of harm's way. He'll lash out and you are a target," Caroline tells her friend.

"I will return home to take care of my wayward brother, while you three remain here with Eve, then."

"You can't go back on your own," Caroline objects. She thought Klaus would be staying for at least a couple of days, waiting for the dust to settle or for Finn to make the next move, see what he's got planned. He hasn't been here for three whole hours and already he wants to jump back into the battlefield? "That's insane."

"I assure you I can handle everything perfectly well on my own, love."

"Oh, yeah, you're so fierce.”

Klaus' lips twitch unamused. "I'll have Kol and Marcel."

"Kol? Seriously? He's a reluctant ally at best. At worst, he's going to stab you right in the back when you least expect."

"He's kept his every word so far."

"Well said, so far. I've seen him change his mind after giving his word before. That's how he ended up dead the first time." Caroline springs to her feet, arms folded across her chest resolutely. "I'll come with you."

"Caroline -"

"Klaus," she stops him, one palm out in the air. "Not up for discussion. The sooner we get to your brother, the sooner we can  _ all _ go home. That's the goal, right?"

Klaus lets out a pained sigh, his mouth twisting in a way it says he has a million and one points to argue but knows he'll lose the fight anyway.

"So, uhm..." Cami starts, nervously. "I'll be staying here with Elijah...?"

They all turn to look at him, so quiet in his corner that Caroline almost forgot he was there.

"He's been experiencing some side effects since his ordeal as our mother's captive," Klaus offers. "Best he stays and convalesce."

"A single violent outburst at a filthy roadside café and one never hears the end of it," Elijah mutters moodily under his breath.

"Well, Cami here has a way with minds plagued by demons, brother. You two can bond. Now, if you'll excuse me, I best be on my way. Rebekah should've already woken up in the body of Angelica Barker. Once she has cut ties with Miss Barker's former live, she'll make her way directly here. You should expect her shortly. You coming?" He lifts his eyebrows at her as he makes his way to the front door. Caroline goes to Cami, leaning down to kiss Eve on the head before following Klaus, but her friend comes skipping behind with the baby.

"Hey," she says, touching Caroline's arm. "Uhm...  _ What _ ? You want me to give Elijah some couch time? I don't know that I can do that," she whispers, a little freaked out.

"You did it for Klaus. It can't be worse than that."

"I can hear you perfectly, love," he grumbles from the door, where he's waiting for her with a scowl. “And I resent that.”

"Look," Caroline tells Cami. "Elijah's a little messed up -"

"A little? He just mentioned a violent outburst at a roadside café. What exactly does that mean?"

"That was different," Caroline waves it off. "He's under a lot of stress and reliving some really old, unpleasant memories he'd apparently kept locked away in some dark, twisted corner of his mind. It's like a magic-induced PTSD or something. Just talk to him. Make him feel more comfortable. I know you're great at that."

"I don't know Elijah."

"You're not always going to know your clients."

"He's not a client," she hisses under her breath. "He's a thousand years old vampire. It's completely different, and you know that."

Caroline sighs, at loss for what to do. "I'm sorry to put you in this position, Cami. If you're not comfortable, then fine. Don't do anything. You still have to be here anyway because of Finn. But all you really have to know is that Elijah is a great guy. It'll be fine. I promise."

"Are we quite done waxing poetic on my brother's infinite qualities?" Klaus whines again. "We have to go."

Caroline takes the chance to kiss Eve again, this time planting a loud smack on her cheek. "We'll be back soon. Don't worry."

She jogs up to join Klaus, who's already out the door and marching over to the car.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline feels like a criminal as she sneaks Jackson into the compound, careful not to get caught by Klaus. He's busy concocting a conclave between Marcel's vampires and the werewolves, but Jackson hasn't been informed. Apparently, Klaus prefers to deal with Aiden, who's in closer touch with the rebellious wolves answering to Finn. Caroline has all kinds of objections to that, but right now this juvenile grudge is kind of useful to her.

She needs to speak to Jack in private and, with Klaus distracted, she invited him over to the compound before everyone arrives. This way they'll not only get a chance to chat without Klaus breathing down their necks, but he'll also be here for the meeting even though he was technically not invited.

"Thanks for meeting me here," she says as she shuts the door to the library behind her. Klaus is somewhere on the second floor, so less likely to pay attention to them. Still, she's keeping her voice low.

"I was glad to get your message," Jack says, an awkward grin on his face. "For a moment there, I didn't think I'd be hearing from you again."

Caroline blinks at him. "Why wouldn't you hear from me?"

"After our last conversation, things got a little weird, and then you took off for three days."

_ Oh _ . Right. Awkward marriage conversations apparently require some kind of follow up to clear the air.

"That's not why I took off," she offers, softly. "There was just... A lot. Elijah's going through some stuff and Esther located Rebekah, jumped her into another body, Cami was being targeted, Mikael broke in to rescue Finn - trust me, it was hardcore. However." Caroline stops, clears her throat. "These three days gave me time to think about what we discussed. That's actually why I asked you to come here. I want to know more about that ritual."

Jackson's eyebrows slash together in pure confusion. "You do?"

"Look... We have to cover all our basis. Marcel is working on making the vampires a force to be reckoned with again. If we manage to take down Finn, with Esther out of the picture, eventually Davina is gonna be leading the witches, being a Harvest girl and all. That means it's up to us to unify the pack again. There will never be real peace in this town as long as there are wolves willing to take rings from witches and fight even their own people for that. But, Jackson." Caroline walks up to him, wringing her hands together nervously, making herself as transparent as possible. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression here. This is a purely practical matter, and we need to face it practically."

"I understand," he nods. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything you know. Priest, witnesses, bridesmaids...?"

He huffs out a chuckle. "It's a mystical unification ceremony, not like getting hitched in Vegas."

"Got it." Caroline takes a seat on one of the armchairs and motions for him to seat as well.

"For this thing to work, it has to be done by the book," he speaks as he makes himself comfortable. "We'd have to find a shaman who can perform the ceremony. That's an old-school Crescent wolf. Then there are the trials to be endured, devotion rituals -"

"Devotion rituals?"

"You have to say a few oaths, do some trust falls, things like that. Nothing too drastic. But it all has to be followed according to tradition. It's the magical link threading through the entire ritual, what guarantees that it'll work."

"And the ceremony?"

"There are some specific words that need to be said, and every wolf who wants to join in needs to be there to witness it. That also assures they'll have submitted to the alphas. In that case, you and me. If they try to break away from the pack or take off, they lose their powers."

"I'm not an alpha."

"But it would be as though you were. It's not just your powers that pass on to us. Ours pass on to you, too."

Caroline's eyebrows arch up to her hairline. "Wait... So, I'd  _ become _ a werewolf?"

"Not exactly. I don't think you'd be able to transform into a wolf even if you wanted to. There's no magic that can make you do that if you don't have the gene. But it would be the closest thing to a hybrid anyone could ever get without being a wolf, I guess."

"Then I'd be stronger, too."

"Pretty much."

They hear the sound of commotion going on outside, and Jackson frowns, looking suddenly tense. "What's that?"

Caroline sighs. She thought she'd have more time. "Klaus has called up a meeting." She stands up and goes to the door, peeking outside, Jackson standing right beside her. They see Aiden arriving, a cocky look on his face as he leads the wolves into the courtyard.

"What the hell is Aiden doing here?" Jack asks with a snap in his voice.

"Those are the wolves willing to listen to Klaus' proposition, I guess."

"Proposition?"

"Klaus wants to talk to them, see if we can find some common ground for a collective effort to take down Finn."

"A common ground with whom?"

As if on cue, Marcel walks in, following by Gia, Josh and the rest of the vampires he's been training in Algiers. His group is looking fiercer than Caroline remembers. "Them."

"Are you people out of your mind?" Jackson bristles, his voice thrumming with heat.

Caroline shrugs. "I guess we'll find out."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kol is torn. While half of him is dying to know what the hell Nik is cooking up with the wolves and the vampires and even a tiny bit hurt that he wasn't even invited to participate, the other half is just relieved to be granted a moment of peace.

It's been ages since he last felt this relaxed. He's not an idiot, of course. He knows this is all superficial and that the spell will break sooner rather than alter. It’s always been like that around Nik; never a boring day. Nevertheless, this is the most at ease he's felt in... Well, years, to be honest. Just folding his clothes, putting them away in the drawers at Rebekah's old room at the compound, settling in. He's got some ideas for that beautiful vintage bourbon on his bedside table and that's all the plans he's got for today.

When was the last time Kol didn't have a list of tasks to tick off, most of which involving different forms of spying, scheming and the occasional murder? With Esther, it was all work and no play, all the time. Even when he was genuinely enjoying himself - like the time he spent on the road with Davina - it still, deep down, felt like a job. His ulterior motivations were never far from his thoughts, even as he allowed his mind to drift towards more pleasant matters - such as the most beautiful pair of blue-green eyes he's ever seen or how the witchy appealed more and more to him the longer they spent together.

It's entirely possible that Kol actually misses Davina and he has no idea how to handle that. It was never part of the deal to  _ like _ the little witch. She was only ever a mean to an end that came with the plus of being easy on the eye. That's it. Kol doesn't do feelings. Not like that, anyway. He doesn't get attached. Definitely doesn't  _ yearn _ for ordinary people's companies or long to hear their voices, even if it's laced with bitterness and woven as a chiding. That's Rebekah's thing. Even Elijah's. Apparently, it's also Nik's thing now. Not his. Never his. He's beyond these petty human co-dependent relations.

But he's not an immortal vampire anymore, is he? He's a witch now, and a very human one. He keeps having to remind himself of that. Kol has loved every bit of being a witch so far -  _ except _ for that nasty one. It was too good to be true, wasn't it? There had to be some downside. It's not just his body that was made vulnerable; it was his soul as well. Blasted right open by the sunbeam in that girl's rare smile. Bloody hell. It makes Kol miss the times when pretty little things such as Davina were no more than his favorite appetizer.

So instead of giving in to the bollocks inner workings of his mortal (soft) heart, Kol is doing just fine here, with his incredibly easy and ordinary domestic tasks. Truth be told, he could've used with a bit more fanfare. Elijah's nowhere to be seen. Caroline went missing for a few days. Nik has been in and out of the compound, disappearing for hours on end, now plotting with his favorite fangsy bunch. His brother didn’t even bother sharing his whereabouts with him; merely pointed Kol to his new room and told him to make himself at home.

That's when he hears a soft knock on the door and lifts his head to see Caroline hovering awkwardly outside his room.

"Does Nik rate me so little that he's sent you as my official welcome home committee?" he jeers.

"Actually, he didn't send a welcome committee."

"Then you're here out of the goodness of your heart? Ah, that's sweet, darling."

Caroline offers him a strained little smile. "I still very much think you're a pig."

"Coming from a person who's been shacking up with my brother, I'm not sure I find that to be insulting, to be honest," he quips. Caroline narrows her eyes to slits and then steps into the room, closing the door behind her. "Oh, oh... Am I in trouble?"

"Not yet. But I'm sure you'll get there, given more time."

"Go on, then. If my brother didn't send you, then what do you want?"

"I have a question, actually. And I have a feeling that it would take a very old witch to get an answer. Considering you've been harassing witches for the better part of a thousand years, I figured maybe you would have a solution to this particular dilemma."

Kol takes a seat, curiosity suddenly piqued. "Let's hear it, then." It's kind of pitiful how good he feels being needed around here, even if just to answer a simple question.

Caroline hesitates, biting on her lower lip as she considers him for a moment too long. "There's this ancient werewolf ritual I just came to learn about," she begins slowly. "One where two alphas could unify their strengths and pass it on to the rest of their clans by performing a ceremony similar to a... Wedding. Of sorts."

"Is that a question?"

"Not really, but if you've heard anything about it, I'd be interested to know."

"Yeah, I've heard about it. Not in details, I was never really into the wolf business. But it wasn't uncommon back in the day. It's quite ancient, indeed."

"From what you've heard and based on your knowledge of ancient witchcraft... Do you think there is a way to magically modify a ceremony like that?"

"What do you mean?"

Caroline clasps her hands behind her back, pacing nervously in front of him. "Well, from what I understood, for the ceremony to work, it really has to be like a marriage. In every aspect. I guess it's part of the devotion agreement that goes into it, unifying blood lines and everything. What I'm wondering is... What if it was possible for, say, a witch, a powerful one, to kind of hijack the magic imbued in the ceremony and keep the effect of the unification, but... exclude everything else? Namely, the marriage part."

Kol slits his eyes. He thinks he knows where she's going with this, but she is dancing around the point to avoid straight out telling him. It's a little painful to watch - and he's thoroughly enjoying it. "I'm not sure what you mean there, love."

Caroline blows out air in frustration. "Can two werewolf alphas combine their strengths and share their abilities without having to get hitched?" she blurts out with a hint of annoyance. "Hypothetically, of course.”

A feline smirk spreads slowly across Kol’s lips. He crosses his legs and joins his hands on top of his knee like a businessman appraising a monumental deal opportunity. Caroline bristles, lips twisting with displeasure even as she tries to keep the flush off her cheeks. To her credit, she doesn't turn away, merely clenches her jaw and waits for the blow to come.

Kol likes this girl's spirit. He likes her wicked mind even more.

"Wait a second there, darling... Are you thinking about tying the knots with that bog hillbilly? Jackson, is it?"

She grunts, swirling on her feet. "Forget I asked."

"There might be way," he speaks lazily, raising his tone an octave, and waits until she reluctantly turns back to continue. "You're talking about a hell of a lot of magic there. These werewolf rites, they're as complex and as solid as the strongest magic you could ever find out there. But... With the right spell, and the right witch... If there's something strong enough to be channeled, like a bunch of willing, participant wolves... I don't see why not. It could be done." He pauses, smiling sweetly at her. "Are you going to ask?"

She crosses her arms. "I don't know if I want to."

"Do you have another option?"

" _ Can _ you do it?" she blurts out, words mangling together as she lets them out unenthusiastically.

"I could look into it. I suppose we're something like family now, aren't we?"

"Name your price."

"I like the way you negotiate, straight to the point. All I want is your support."

She blinks suspiciously. "My support?"

"Yes. With Nik. When push comes to shove, and I'm sure it will, seeing as my brother and I have never really seen eye to eye, I would like to have you on my corner."

"That's it? You just want me to put in a good word for you with your brother?" she questions in disbelief.

He can see how that might sound suspicious, indeed. He'd be the first to take a step back if he were in her place. But he's not playing tricks here. Caroline's support could prove invaluable, especially once Nik finds out how he tapered with Rebekah's body-jumping spell. When his brother's temper flares and he feels like baring those shiny teeth of his... Having a blonde-haired wall between him and Nik might be what saves his life.

"Well..." he continues. "I'd also very much like to be there to watch when you tell Nik you're going to marry someone else."

"The whole point of doing this is so I  _ don't _ have to get married."

"Don't worry, love. I got that part. I would just  _ really _ like Nik to think that you will. For a little while, anyway. Can you imagine?" Kol throws his head back with laughter. "Oh, that would be  _ delicious _ !"

"Absolutely not," she stomps her foot down, pointing a warning finger at him. "He won't ever think that. The point here is to  _ fix _ things, not to add more fuel to a wildfire. I'll stand on your corner when you screw up and Klaus wants to kill you, but we're not gonna be telling him about the marriage part.  _ Ever _ . All he'll hear is there is a magical ceremony to fix all our problems. That's my final offer."

Kol rolls his eyes, making a displeased sound deep in his throat. "You are no fun. But I'm not in a position to be picky, so... I take it." He offers her his hand. With her eyes boring into his, Caroline takes it, squeezes him a little bit more strongly than necessary, just to remind him how reversed roles are around here now that she's the one with the muscles and the raw strength to tear him apart. "We have a deal."

"Great. So you go look into that and all I have to do is get the werewolf part of the ceremony to agree to forego all of his kind's traditions and possibly offend his entire pack in the process. No biggie. And Kol..." she points that finger at him again. "I'm trusting you here.  _ Really _ trusting you. Don't make me regret this."

He offers her a lazy lopsided grin. Kol likes to keep people on their toes around him, but if only Caroline knew how desperate for some friends to have his back he is at the moment... "Noted."

She stops by the door, whips her head around, blonde hair flying over her shoulder as she smiles. "By the way. Welcome back to the family."

That's the most welcome he's felt all day.

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"Rebekah, it's me again. Please, call."

Elijah puts down his phone, counting how many times unanswered calls to Angelica Barker’s number he’s made so far. Exactly a dozen. She hasn't even replied with a text yet. She should've arrived by now, and there’s not a sign so far. If she met some kind of complication disengaging herself from Ms. Barker's life, she should've had the mind to warn them. Nothing about this situation inspires confidence and her lack of contact is only serving to put Elijah more on edge.

"Yahtzee! If there's one thing I've learned about you people it's that there's always a bottle of booze lying around wherever you go."

As is Camille.

Elijah sighs, not even embarrassed anymore at his complete lack of enthusiasm. The girl's presence at the house has been marked by too much excitement and awkward attempts at socializing. None has worked for him. He gets that she was in danger staying at the Quarter thanks to his maniacal brother and Caroline needed her to lay low for a while, but she probably thought she was being  _ subtle _ when she conveniently suggested that Niklaus' therapist should stay here, with the mentally unstable person.

The condescension is frankly outrageous.

"You want some?" Cami asks as she joins him in the living room with her half-full bourbon and two glasses. Eve is taking a blissful nap in her room, and those are by far Elijah's least favorite moments. When his niece is not awake to keep Camille distracted, she starts poking her nose around him, apparently unable to notice that he's been deftly sidestepping her every chance he gets. Either that, or she simply ignores it. Elijah always wondered how she managed to get through to Niklaus' thick skull. Now he knows: sheer annoying persistence, it seems.

"Sounds delightful," he replies flippantly, taking a seat. "And after that, Camille? Then what? We have another, then another, perhaps another after that... Before long, I find myself opening up to you or bearing my damaged soul as it were?" he deadpans. "It's an old trick -  _ not _ a particularly clever one, I might add."

She rolls her eyes, pawing a board game on the shelf before sitting across from him on the couch. "You, Mikaelson boys, are all very self-centered, aren't you? Has it ever occurred to you that I'm less interested in fixing your problems and more interested in forgetting my own? I mean, I'm basically in a supernatural witness protection program because your psychotic brother, who, by the way, I practically had to seduce, now wants me dead, so, yeah. Booze and board games is pretty much where I'm at right now."

She pours herself a glass as Elijah watches, quietly munching over her speech. He admires Camille's tenacity and how she's risen above all of the terrible obstacles that have surged up all around her. Elijah can certainly recognize a strong soul when he sees one. But he's only mildly touched by her personal drama, considering every single person he knows is currently in much worse shores, not to mention incredibly bored by this whole deep analytical nonsense she likes to weave into absolutely everything. Niklaus must be in love with the sound of his own voice if he could tolerate sitting through couch sessions with her.

She picks a card from the game. "Here's a question," she starts. "What was the name of Don Quixote's horse?"

Elijah scoffs. "This is absurd. I'm not playing games with you."

"Fine. Dumb idea." She puts her card down and takes up her glass, slumping back on her seat. "Let's make small talk, then. How are things with Caroline? She was here for a few days, right? Have you gotten over your crush on your brother's girlfriend yet?"

Elijah stares blankly at her.  _ Touché _ . Trapped between a rock and a hard place.

"Rocinante," he replies at last, pouring himself a glass as well. "The horse's name is Rocinante."

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Klaus watches from the door as Kol hangs his clothes into Rebekah's old closet. Or one of her old closets. They had to move everything that was in this room to one of the other closets she occupied around the house to make room for Kol. When you live for a thousand years, you tend to accumulate too many belongings, some far less useful than others, but Rebekah's a bit of a basket case. Especially with her clothes. She took nothing with her when she left, which means she probably bought herself an entire new wardrobe to add to the vast one she kept at the compound. Many of her clothes are hundreds of years old, but she refuses to let them go.

_ It's vintage, Nik. You never know when it'll be trendy again, and I'd rather wear original pieces than shop at the same places as everyone else. I have a unique style, you wouldn't understand. How many of these sodden looking Henley's do you own again? _

And, well, she kind of beat him there. He does have one too many similar shirts. In his defense, his tend to get ripped apart, destroyed or stained with blood only too often, so.

Kol doesn't have that many things. Yet, anyway. This Kaleb person whose body he so naturally inhabits now wasn't a man of many possessions and Kol's had no time to go shopping for himself. He'll do it in no time, for certain. His little brother was always a bit too enamored with his own reflection in the mirror. This lad might be even better looking than he was. Not that Klaus would bruise his ego by telling him that. He'll save it for when he's feeling testy and Kol is trying his patience.

"Settling well into your new accommodations?" he asks.

"Well, personally, I would've preferred my old room, but seeing as it's been occupied with a dusty nursery and a blonde vampire, thought it best not to complain," he quips.

Klaus grins. Kol's room was the closest one to his, which is how it ended up being Caroline's. It also had the perfect attached space for the nursery in Kol's old dressing room. Not that Rebekah's is any less lavish. The wallpapers are peeling off and the brick work is showing on a few spots, but, frankly, Klaus prefers the house like that. It adds character and a certain rustic charm. It's an old property, exuding history. It should feel old, not look like one of those sloppy modern catalogue-like homes, all  _ clean _ and  _ straight-lined _ , no soul whatsoever. He'd much rather live in a country house like the one where Elijah is, with the roof falling apart and the floorboards creaking, than in a modern interior-designed  _ loft _ .

But anyway.

"I brought you something, in honor of you return to the fold." He enters the room, showing Kol the bottle of Pernod absinthe he took from his personal collection especially for him. "I believe it is your favorite, or at least it used to be.  _ La fee verte _ ."

Kol makes an appreciative humming sound as he takes the bottle from him, his eyes glinting with what are certainly very interesting absinthe-fueled memories. Those were wild times, Klaus remembers well. Probably not as well as he'd like to, though. Even his immaculate memory suffers a bit under the harsh influence of the green faerie. Not that he ever complained, of course.

"Ding-dong, the witch is dead," Kol chants. "Or undead, in this case."

Klaus laughs, ready to get two glasses and some water so they can mix a drink and have a proper toast. He would rather do it the old French way, but they unfortunately lack the sugar cubes and the fountain. He hasn't been much of an absinthe drinker, having switched to bourbon or wine almost exclusively. But for Kol, he'll salute the good old days of the craziest inebriated nights of his life. Before he gets a chance, however, the bottle explodes on Kol's hand, and a second later Finn is storming in. Didn't even knock, the rude fool.

"Where is she?" he demands, rage burning behind his eyes.

"Finn! Please, join us!" he says with a sneer, opening his arms to his brother. "My, my, you look peaky. Doesn't he look peaky?" he asks Kol, a mock-concerned expression on his face.

"He does look peaky."

"You feeling alright?"

"Don't make me ask again," Finn hisses.

Such a bore, his older brother... Not a single thread of humor in his body.

"I assume you're referring to our mother," he replies with a cheeky little smirk that is certain to annoy every last strand of hair on his head. "Fear not. She's tucked away somewhere perfectly safe. You'll never find her."

Finn grinds his teeth together, pure vitriol wrought on every line of his face. "You think you've won. Let's see how long that arrogance lasts, brother."

He storms out as quickly as he came in, leaving Klaus to wonder, briefly, if perhaps he shouldn't have been a little meeker in his deranged brother's treatment, especially now that he's lost his beloved guru. That sounded too much like a threat to his taste. But, oh well. It's so hard to resist these taunts when the opportunity shows.

"You sure that was clever?" Kol asks.

"Not at all."

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"You wolves are here because you want freedom from the witches, and I promise you, if you stay with us, you will find your freedom. But there is no regaining control of this city, and therefore breaking the chains the witches have put on you in the form of those moonlight rings, if we don't work together. It'll take all the help we can get. None of us can do it on our own," Caroline says very solemnly as she stands on the no-man's-land between a disgruntled group of werewolves and a suspicious bunch of vampires.

No one seems happy to be there, or even necessarily willing to collaborate. Apparently, all they were told is that Klaus had a proposition for them regarding taking down the witch rule over New Orleans and wanted them all to hear it. He never mentioned that they'd be bumping into each other or that it would involve partnering with the enemy.

Except Klaus is late for the meeting he called up himself and the second wolves and vampires laid eyes on each other the atmosphere was immediately hostile. Caroline wasn't even supposed to have anything to do with any of it, she was just going to stand at the back as a listener, but somebody had to step in and, as seems to be the case only too often for her taste, it had to be her. She should add  _ human peace dove _ to her resumé.

It's in times like this that Caroline feels all the weight of being  _ what _ she is. The wolves don't look at her with the same contempt they look at the other vampires, but neither do vampires see her as one of their own. She's neither this, nor that, some in-between creature with no equals, no pack or coven or group to belong with, although the Mikaelsons do seem to be a faction all of their own. She’s just… Not entirely sure she wants that to be the place she belongs. It’s very limiting, and makes her very lost. She's urging both sides to be reasonable, but if push comes to shove, which side will defend her, and which will attack her? Both? None?

She keeps her doubts firmly off her face, though, and works her best on appeasing tempers all around. And where the freaking hell is Klaus? This is his grenade to hold, not hers.

"My vamps and I are willing to stand with you all against the witches," Marcel says, rather calmly. Caroline really,  _ really _ likes him right now. He's the most level-headed person in the proverbial room. "In return, all I want is a promise that there will be peace between our sides."

"You're the one who spent the last one hundred years killing and cursing us," Jerich, one of Aiden's closest friends, shoots back.

Marcel doesn't take the bait, though. "Which means, you might want to listen to what I have to say."

"I see you're brokering a truce." Finn cuts way through the circle of people, staring them all down with a nasty little ill-intentioned smile on his face that turns Caroline's blood to ice. All around her, teethes bare and eyes darken, ready to draw blood. The common hatred for Finn is, apparently, the one thing that unites all of them. "Mongrels and parasites. Now, just how long do you think this will last? A month? A week? A day? What you don't seem to understand is that the only thing that can exist between you two degenerate species is hatred, war and death," he spits out, words coated in disdain.

Finn walks over to the entrance, puts his fingers together and blows on them, touching the wall by the main gate. The entire building trembles as though there's been an earthquake. Finn smirks at them, very satisfied with whatever it is that he did.

In a crazy rampage, Caroline flashes over to him, but before she can reach Finn, an invisible wall stops her. She screams in pain when she hits it, being pushed back inside the compound, her skin all red and blistered as though she'd taken off her ring under the sun.

Finn shrugs at her. "I imagine, given a little time confined together, you'll come to see things the way I do."

He calmly turns on his heels and waltzes away. She whips around, searching for Marcel and Jackson, both of them grim and concerned when they meet her eyes.

Wolves and baby vamps trapped together for god knows how long.

They are so screwed.

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Two hours in lockdown and no one's launched at each other's throats. Yet. The tension is still thick in the air, but the worst seems to be behind them. Those first few minutes of doubt, indecision, both sides wondering if the other didn't have something to do with it, vampires obviously blaming the wolves for working with Finn... She didn't really think they'd make it through one full hour without an incident, but somehow, they have. A lot of it thanks to Marcel's quick thinking.

He had the brilliant idea of raiding Klaus' cellar and handing out bottles of bourbon to keep everyone pliant and calm. Gia is even sharing a drink with Jerich. But Caroline's still worried. She knows the tiniest bit of provocation is capable of inflaming them all against each other again, and Marcel, Jackson and herself are not gonna be enough to hold them all back. They could have a real disaster on their plates.

But so far, so good.

The only ones who are, apparently, completely unbothered by the whole thing, maybe even welcoming the opportunity, are Josh and Aiden. The two were chit-chatting the whole time, and have disappeared from sight for at least an hour now, which... Good for them. At least they're doing something productive with this complete waste of time.

From the second-floor walkway, she catches Jackson having a laugh with one of his guys, drinking straight from a bottle. Caroline lets out a wounded sigh, biting on her lower lip pensively as her fingertips drum away on the railing. She's been trying to come up with a way to pitch her idea to him. On paper, everything sounds perfect. If Kol can really find a way around this ritual, they could perform the ceremony, unite the packs, get rid of the rings, empower everyone and never have to get married. All loose ends taken care of. Everyone wins. Except, maybe, Jack.

As much as she believes there are no down sides to her proposition, she knows it won't seem that way for him. This is an ancient ritual they're talking about, and he's very attached to his people's roots, spent months in the deep Bayou taking notes of Ansel's words of wisdom from yore. Jackson holds his traditions very close to his heart, and suggesting to him desecrating this ritual because she doesn't want to get hitched might sound... Offensive. She doesn't want him to be insulted. Or to think that she doesn't respect his people's ways or thinks little of it. Or even that she wants to use him. But these are times of war and it demands extreme measures, a certain degree of sacrifice is required from everyone, and this ceremony would be widely beneficial to all of them. So it's not completely selfish of her to suggest it. She doesn't think so, anyway.

Jackson is a really nice guy. The last thing Caroline wants is to upset him. After everything he's had to endure over the last few months, he's just trying to do the best he can for his pack. Just like she's trying to do the best she can for her daughter.

She's thinking of what Elijah said, about him being  _ head over heels _ with her. Caroline always thought of that as a gross exaggeration on Klaus' part. He's possessive and jealous, so of course he'd get all grumpy over her making friendships in the Bayou. But she doesn't think Jackson has any real feelings for her. Or... does he? No. That's just... No. A light crush at most, totally platonic. Jackson is one of the kindest, most decent people Caroline’s ever met, but she’s been through this with Elijah already, and the answer is still the same. Klaus takes up too much space, there's no room left for anyone else under her skin, not even as a hypothesis.

"Worried about your wolves?" As though conjured by her thoughts, Klaus speaks silkily as he materializes beside her, making Caroline flinch like she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She straightens up, Klaus' gaze burning on her face as she keeps hers down on the courtyard - but firmly  _ not _ on Jackson anymore. "Or just one wolf in particular?"

"I don't know what you mean," she replies, aiming for her best noncommittal posture, hoping to God that she isn't blushing.

"I saw when Jackson arrived, long before the rest of his entourage. May I ask what you wanted to discuss with him, just the two of you, in the library... Behind closed doors?" His voice sounds perfectly smooth, but Caroline can hear all the sharp edges of his suspicion underneath that calm.

She looks at him, considering, for just a second, telling him everything. She decides against it, though. She doesn't even know if Jackson would agree to it, and it's just like Klaus to try and force him into making the deal against his will, by sheer violence if needed be. Besides, she has a feeling that, wedding or no wedding, he'll still have some not-so-pleasant  _ thoughts _ to share. Breaking the news before there's even anything concrete will just cause unnecessary stress. First Jackson, then Klaus, once she's had a bit more time to mentally prepare herself for the jealous breakdown.

"Nothing special," she replies at last. "I was just asking about Aiden and how things went during the three days that I was gone."

"And you needed a private audience for that?"

"Klaus," she draws out in a calm but warning way, turning around to face him completely. "You asked me to step it up with the werewolves."

"I certainly don't remember asking you to hold the hands of their alpha while he scrambles for control over his own pack," he accuses mildly.

"Well, maybe that's exactly what I have to do. I'm not a werewolf. All I can do is offer some guidance and support and perspective to Jackson. If that gets us the allies we need in the end, then what's the matter?"

"I don't like it," he bites out in a clipped tone. "I've had my share of watching you parading about in the arms of a werewolf, I know they're your type. So forgive me if I don't fancy seeing it again."

Caroline shakes her head, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. "Do you even hear the things you say? Stop blowing everything out of proportion. Jackson and I are friends. We work well together. That's it. There's nothing more and there's never been. I'm trying to fix things for us, so that we can be a family again, but you baring your fangs out at him is only gonna make things harder. It’s cute that you’re jealous, Klaus, but only to a certain point. If you start getting all paranoid on me, we're gonna have a problem. I need to be allowed some privacy, even if it's to meet with Jackson. I'm gonna need you to trust me on this, ok?"

Klaus stares right into her with those stormy blues that could swallow her whole. She can see a world of things flashing through, but instead of saying something, Klaus winds up diving in for a kiss. It's slow and deliberate and not like Klaus' kisses normally are. He's impatient and breathtaking and flaming hot, but this is different. Softer, and somehow deeper. He's thorough in the way his tongue moves, dancing against her own as though claiming her. Caroline melts under his ministrations, the fact they have an audience and this is a lot more intimate than a little peck on the lips disappearing into a far, distant corner of her mind. All she can feel in that moment is Klaus, and all her heartbeats are off-set for him, and all she can think of is how she never, ever wants him to stop.

She goes weak around the knees, and it's kind of ridiculous how she is so completely undone by a kiss. Klaus doesn't even have to press himself flush against her, or let his hands roam all over her body. Just his mouth, taking hers in a way no one's ever done, setting out a quake at the pit of her stomach. He doesn't even have to use his words for her to listen to the clear underlying message.  _ See what I do to you? See how at my mercy you are? You're mine. All mine. _

And, well. She can't say she disagrees.

Klaus breaks away, his lips swollen, eyelids at half-mast. His mouth curves slowly into a lewd smile, flashing her those dimples, and Caroline doesn't know if she wants to kiss him again or smack him.

"You play so dirty," she whispers to him.

"I play to win, love."

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"What three European countries begin with the letter A?"

"Albania, Austria, Andorra," Elijah replies in a bland, monochordic tune, completely devoid of emotion. Who writes these cards?

Camille grunts in frustration, having so far failed to ask a single question he didn't know the answer for. She starts flipping through the cards again, searching for another one. At this point, he doesn't know whether to respect her refusal to give up or just be plain insulted at this knowledge test that was clearly made for children of the particularly uneducated brand. "Ok. All right. I got one. Who was the only US president to earn a Ph.D.?"

Elijah pours himself another glass of scotch. "The tedious Woodrow Wilson."

Cami frowns and flips through a few more cards. " _ A-ha _ ! Who rode Secretariat to the triple crown in 1973?"

"Ron Turcotte."

"No! I refuse to believe that you just happen to know all that!" she flails, laughing as she throws the cards on the table. As she gesticulates widely, she accidentally bumps into his arm, spilling some of his scotch on his shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Elijah. Here," she says in-between waves of laughter, handing him a napkin.

He starts rubbing the napkin against his sleeve, the stain there growing bigger and bigger. The more it grows, the harder he rubs, diligently, non-stop. It has to come out. He can't have a dirty shirt.

"Elijah? Are you ok?" He barely registers the sound of Camille's voice, merely continues to rub and rub until he can feel his nails digging sharply into the fabric. But the stain is still there. "Hey, Elijah." He feels Camille's hand touching his forearm, gently, but inconveniently interrupting him. Can't she see that he's busy? That he's trying to get clean? He can't be as dirty as his mother thinks he is. He's better than that.

Elijah stops, grabbing her wrist, not strongly, but firmly, and so fast is throws her.

Camille gasps, staring at him wide-eyed in fear, her hitched breath caught in her throat as her heart skips a fundamental beat. The fright in her big green eyes reminds him of Caroline in that wretched dream he keeps having, and suddenly he's snapped out of it, blinking slowly at her before he lets her go. His face remains absolutely blank, but the way she recoils sends a bit of a pang shooting through him.

"I'm not as fragile as my brother suggests," he tells her, flatly, looking away and standing up.

His phone ringing knives through the loaded silence that follows.

"Rebekah, where on earth are you?" he speaks as he recognizes Angelica Barker's number, the one he'd calling non-stop all day long.

"Hey," an unfamiliar female voice starts on the other end. Just one word, but it makes Elijah's chest tighten immediately. It's not just the accent that is wrong, it's the intonation, the laziness, the lack of fire he senses behind that voice. Instantly, he knows it's not his sister. "I don't know who you are or how you got this number, but I'm not Rebekah, I don't know any Rebekahs. My name's Angelica."

"I see. I must have been dialing the wrong number. Forgive me."

He puts the phone away with a lump in his throat. He turns to Camille, then, to the question in her still frightened eyes.

"My sister's gone."

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Jackson knocks on Caroline's door, sticking his head inside her room. "Hey. Everything all right?"

She smiles. "Come in. And shut the door."

His forehead bunches a little, but he obliges without question. As soon as Klaus engaged in some deep conversation with Marcel, Caroline texted Jackson and asked him to  _ discreetly _ leave the courtyard and come find her in her room. Not exactly the most lady-like thing to do, ask for a man to come meet you in your bedroom and shut the door behind him, but this is probably where they'll get the most privacy to talk.

"Take a seat," she says, motioning towards the armchair while she stays on her bed.

"You ok?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I'm not sure. It depends, I guess. We need to talk."

His frown deepens. "Ok... That doesn't sound good."

"Look, I'm just gonna go straight to it. Ever since you told me about this alpha binding ritual, I've thought of almost nothing else. I keep trying to see an alternative, but the more I think about it, the more I realize... This is it, Jackson. That's the thing we've been looking for, a way to free the werewolves and retake control over the city. That's how you get your pack back and we can start talking about real peace." She pauses, looking down at her hands. "But... To be honest... I can't marry you. Call me old fashioned or naive, but... We're not in love. It's not fair."

Jackson hangs his head low, nodding slowly. "Well. Not like I didn't already know you're in love with Klaus, for some inexplicable reason."

"Yes. I am. And it's not fair to me, and not fair to him either. But it's not just about me and Klaus.  _ You _ don't wanna marry me. I'm a vampire, Jack. You love kids, I've seen how you are around them. You're an alpha, you should have a bunch of children to continue the Kenner legacy, and I can't give you that. And it's kind of a waste for someone like you to be stuck in a convenience marriage for the rest of your life. I mean that as the best of compliments. You're an incredible guy, Jack. You deserve a lot more than convenience. So it's not fair to you either."

"I do want to have kids. And I do hope to marry someone who's gonna love me back. But I would do it, for my pack. To free them. They're worth the sacrifice."

"I know you would. And that's exactly why you shouldn't have to." Caroline draws the air in, cocking her head to the side. "What if I told you that there is a way you won't have to sacrifice anything, though?"

Jackson blinks. "What do you mean?"

"I have someone looking into it and he's cautiously optimistic, I would say."

"Looking into  _ what _ ?"

"A way to hijack the ritual," she blurts out all in one go, allowing Jackson a second for the information to register. His face crumples up in confusion before his eyes widen and his lips part as comprehension dawns. "I asked a witch - a really old and knowledgeable one - and he thinks it's possible for us to be able to promote the unification without having to actually get married. So we'd just tweak with the ceremony a little bit, change the vows, and we wouldn't have to be married like the ritual requires, but the effects would still take."

He regards her pensively for a long spell. "I don't know about that, Caroline."

"I know what I'm asking is a lot. It's a thousand years old ritual and I know how much traditions mean to you. Believe me, I'd never want to disrespect that. But, honestly... I'm kind of grasping at straws here, and at a total loss for what else to do. And I think you are, too." She leaves him silence to fill, waiting for him to express an opinion, an impression, anything at all, even if it's just to say that he won't do it. Jackson remains quiet, his eyes lowered to his feet. Caroline can see the struggle on the tautness of his expression. "I obviously won't guilt you into doing anything you don't want to," she continues in a manner she hopes is reassuring. "If you're not up for it, that's fine, we don't do it. I'll tell the witch to drop it and we'll keep trying to figure out another way out of this mess. I'll obviously still be there by your side every step of the way. Nothing changes. All I'm asking is that you give it a thought... Like I gave the marriage idea a really long and deep thought during the three days I was away. You don't have to answer me now. Take however long you need. Just... Try not to take  _ too _ long?"

A smile creeps onto his lips. "I'll think about it. I promise."

Caroline opens her mouth to offer him a heartfelt thank you, but bends over with a loud gasp as she feels a sharp stab in her stomach. Her vision doubles, blurs, and when it refocuses again, she's seeing everything more acutely than before. All of her senses feel sharper all of a sudden. She can almost  _ see _ the blood pumping through Jackson's body, the artery on his neck jumping at her eyes in rhythm with the beating of his heart. There's a burning that seems to start low in her belly radiating forwards like a fever, going up Caroline's throat until she's sweating and salivating with how desperately she wants to...

_ Fuck _ .

Hunger stirs inside of her, screaming in her head, dominating her with feral persuasion.

"What is it?" Jackson asks, sitting on the edge of his chair, reaching out for her.

"Something's wrong," she mumbles, her eyes sliding down to the inside of his pulses. She shoves him away with a violent jerk, pushing off the bed. "Don't come any closer."

"Caroline? What's going on?" he demands, more urgently.

"Jack..." she speaks in-between slow intakes of air, trying to calm herself down. She rakes a hand through her hair, dizzy at how hungry she is all of a sudden. She fed just this morning, two whole blood bags. That's more than enough to spend the day without any incidents. It's like she's reverting back to her first night after transition. "Get away from me," she pleads, her fangs itching down her gums. " _ Now _ ."

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"I can't take it, Marcel! This is too much!" Josh yells, completely disgruntled.

He just showed up after going missing for hours, his face pale like he'd seen a ghost, the veins around his eyes all popping, and dragged Marcel into the dining room, a look on his face that is part desperate, part feral.

"Ok, slow down," he says.

"All I can think about is blood. It's like when I first turned, only a hundred times worse!"

Marcel frowns, and then Gia, right next to him, moans loudly, bending over with her hands over her stomach. When she straightens up again, she looks exactly like Josh -  _ dying _ to sink her teeth into something. Before Marcel can reach out to her, however, it's his turn to feel this stabbing inside of him, followed immediately by an overwhelming hunger like he hasn't felt in centuries.

"Your vampires seem to think it's lunch time," Klaus whines as he storms into the dining room, stopping dead on his track when he sees the look on all three of their faces.

"That's because it is," Caroline adds as she rushes in right after him. Marcel doesn't need to ask to know she feels exactly the same.

Klaus' expression morphs from annoyed to concerned as he turns to her. "What is it?"

"They're not the only ones who are hungry. It's all of us," Marcel tells him.

"Supersized hungry," Caroline grumbles, leaning over the table, her knuckles whitening from how tightly she's holding on to the edge.

"And there's an all-you-can-eat buffet right through those doors," Josh adds, his eyes set on the werewolves sitting right outside, totally oblivious to the fact they've just become prey.

Klaus' eyes darken. "Finn."

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The phone rings five long times - on purpose, no doubt - before Finn's infuriatingly gloating voice sounds on the other end.

"Niklaus!" his brother greets him. He can hear the smile on the bastard's face. "Calling to concede so soon?"

He drags Caroline behind with him, his hand firmly wrapped around her wrist until they're safely in the study room, with the door closed behind them. She was a second away from jumping one of the werewolves downstairs and so were all of Marcel's vampire kindergarten class. If one of them acted upon their craving, all of them would, so he carefully removed Caroline from the potential scene of a massacre before anything happened. Not that it will change much if push comes to biting downstairs; the way she is, how heightened her senses are, she'll capture even the faintest smell of blood in the air. He's afraid of what it'll do to her, to lose control and turn on her friends. She's got a blank look on her face like she's straining to keep her wits about her, pale like a candle.

"I merely seek to negotiate, brother," he says into the phone, keeping the worst of his mood clear off his voice, lest Finn thinks he's groveling. "You want our mother; I want out of this bloody compound. The economics of what comes next should be easy to grasp even for you."

"What I want, brother, is to exterminate the plague that is your kind. What I want is to watch the flames flicker on your smoldering corpse. What I want, is to hear the silence once you finally stop screaming."

Klaus sighs, bored to death at his brother's fanatic and clearly rehearsed speech. Caroline throws her head back, making a  _ guh _ sound in her throat. He makes a little static sound with his voice then. "I'm sorry, we must have a bad connection. Could you repeat everything you said after  _ what I want _ ?"

Finn laughs. "Oh, I'm so happy to hear hunger hasn't yet sapped your humor. How is Caroline holding up?" The two of them exchange a grim look, and this time Klaus bites back on the sarcastic quip and keeps his mouth shut. "I should warn you, brother, if those vampires even attempt to feed, they'll find themselves ravenous, unable to stop, so every moment that you waste with me will only lead you to the inevitable carnage."

_ Bloody hell _ . His brother has had no trouble easing into Esther's spot, stealing a page right off their mother's book of blackmailing atrocities.

"Esther for our freedom," he offers, completely serious now. "Do we have a deal?"

"Well, I think I know better than to trust your honesty, but... Yes.  _ If _ I find our mother unharmed, then I might consider granting your reprieve."

The use of the word  _ unharmed _ brings a chill to Klaus' stomach. He's pretty certain Finn won't think that  _ undead _ and desperate for a fix of blood counts as  _ unharmed _ , even if she's still alive and breathing, however barely. But what choice does he have?

"St. Roch number one, the Delphine tomb," he says, hanging up right after.

"Fuck," Caroline breathes out, reading his mind.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, ignoring the obvious complication they've just run themselves into. He really needs to start thinking before he pushes his siblings' destruction buttons.

"I really,  _ really _ want to bite your neck right now, and not in the good way."

"If you must, then it's best that you drain me than one of the wolves downstairs."

"You heard him. If I drain you, I'll want to drain  _ everyone _ . We can't feed."

Klaus takes a bold step forward, cupping her face even as she tries to shake him off. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"Get the wolves out first." The veins around her eyes pop, a reddened halo appearing around her blue irises. "And get your goddamn pulse away from me, too." Caroline wrenches out of his grasp and blurs out from the room.

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It was only a matter of time - and not a lot of it - before things went to hell.

The moment Finn activated the super hunger curse, the atmosphere at the compound, which was already thick with hostility, became positively inflammable. As much as they tried to stay apart, the vampires' hunger kept dragging them closer to the  _ food court _ , and the werewolves' pride kept them from running and hiding as they obviously should. Jackson and Marcel did a pretty decent job at keeping a leash on everyone's moods - Marcel in particular was kind of a miracle worker, because he barely seemed like he was hungry himself. But there was only so much the two of them could do with so many short-fused timebombs ready to blow.

Caroline is not sure what starts it. Someone bumps into someone else, gives them the stink eye, a rude remark, and the damage is done. They start going at each other, with Marcel, Klaus and Jackson pulling people from each other's throats. Josh, bless his heart, despite his own uncontrollable hunger, grabs a vampire ready to launch at Aiden and throws him across the room. But Aiden loses his balance and falls back into a pottery vase. When he gets up, he has a nasty cut on his forearm, and then every single vampire head in the room snaps to him in unison.

Caroline can't take her eyes from the red thread running down Aiden's arm, the beautiful,  _ perfect _ crimsonness of it, the coppery scent staining the air making her stomach flutter in anticipation. She feels her fangs out, feels her legs propel her forward, and she just  _ knows _ she won't be able to stop herself.

" _ Fuck, fuck, fuck, _ " she mutters under her breath.

"Caroline." Klaus plants himself in front of her. "Get away from him, right now."

"I can't," she retorts, despair bleeding into her voice. She can't even  _ blink _ away from Aiden. "I can't, Klaus. I can't!"

"Control yourself!"

"Snap my neck."

"What?"

" _ Snap my neck! _ "

"I'm not going to -"

"Snap my fucking neck, Klaus, right now! Or I'm gonna eat Aiden!"

Klaus clenches his jaw, and Caroline bares her teeth, growling like an animal, reading to jump at Aiden so he'll be forced to do something, but before she can move, a hand grabs her from behind. All she feels is her head spinning way too fast, and then everything goes dark.

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She wakes up with a stiff neck and a throbbing pain in her head. Before she even dares to open her eyes, she scrunches up her nose into a grimace, a soft moan escaping her lips.

She blinks once, twice, before the world resolves into focus around her. All she sees at first is the vast darkness of the night sky, dotted with tiny flickering stars. The breeze is cool on her skin, and she can hear trees rustling and a fire crackling nearby. Someone got her out of the compound. Far out, in fact. This looks like...

"Welcome back."

Caroline moves her head, grunting from the aching discomfort, and finds Jackson watching her, sitting on the steps of his trailer's door. His truck is parked nearby. So he brought her to his secret camp in the deep Bayou.

"What happened?" she asks, rolling onto her side and pushing herself off the ground. Doesn't look like they have any company.

"Josh snapped your neck," he says. Involuntarily, she takes a hand to the back of her head, where she felt her bones cracking. This will never get old. "Kol and Davina managed to make a disruption spell. It lifted every magic beacon inside the compound for 60 seconds - including Vincent's curse. It gave us enough time to escape."

"But..." Caroline looks down at her hand, at the blue lapis lazuli on her finger. "That should've messed with the daylight rings as well."

"It did. Vampires couldn't leave, they had to hide in the darkness. Klaus smuggled you out by carrying you through the back, so you weren't directly under the sun light. When you finally got outside the house, your ring was working again. He took you to my truck, asked me to watch you."

"Where is he?"

"Do you really think Klaus tells me anything? All he said was to give you this as soon as you woke up."

Jackson tosses her two blood bags. The second she grabs them, she feels that low rumble of hunger bubbling inside of her, but not as intense as before. Finn's spell must be limited to the area around the compound. It would take too much magic to be able to reach this far in the Bayou. She is still unusually hungry, but like she's gone for a day or two without feeding, not like she wants to bite someone's head off. Still, she wastes no time sinking her teeth into the bags and draining them out. Jackson says nothing, but she turns away from him, suddenly shy about dining in front of him. It's stupid, because he knows exactly what she's doing anyway, but Caroline knows too well how grossed out werewolves are about this and she'd just rather not see the disgust so blatantly obvious on his face. It takes her no more than a minute to be done with both bags. She feels perfectly balanced again, sharp and in control, all those nagging echoes of her broken neck gone.

Caroline licks her lips when she turns back to Jackson, testing to see whether she'd feel tempted to have him for dessert, but she feels nothing. "Happy ending, then?" she breathes out in relief, sagging a little.

"Not for Kol."

"What? Why?"

"Klaus threw him back inside, the barrier came back up and then he couldn't leave anymore."

Caroline's brow bunches. "Why would he do that?"

Jackson shrugs. "Didn't really understand, but he said something about Rebekah. I think Kol knows where she is, or something."

Caroline gapes. That little rascal.  _ That _ is why he was so keen on getting her  _ support _ . He screwed with Rebekah's body jump and knew exactly how Klaus would react when he found out. "So... He's the only living thing inside that compound with a bunch of ravenous vampires?"

"Pretty much."

She curses under her breath, scrubbing a hand across her face. This is the  _ stand on his corner _ he wanted from her, the thing she promised in exchange for his help. Not only they have a deal, but Caroline needs him alive. Now she's gonna have to find a way to break him out.

"If your  _ old and knowledgeable _ witch was Kol, I think you're in trouble there," Jackson remarks with a lightness that Caroline does not feel. She tilts her head, sending him a pointed look under her lashes. He studies her face for a beat, then his eyes cut to the side. "Speaking of that... While you slept, I gave the matter a long and deep thought, like you asked." He makes a pause, Caroline holds her breath in suspense until he meets her eyes again, nodding. "I'm in."

"You are?"

"I've dragged everyone into this the day I accepted those moonlight rings from Klaus. It's my job to fix it. You're right, this is not ideal, and I hate to think that, as a Crescent alpha, I'll be disrespecting a sacred ritual. But I'd be an even worse leader if I didn't do everything in my power to save my people. What you're offering... It's not little. I know this doesn't come without a cost. Married or not, we'll be linked forever. I imagine Klaus must have a thing or two to say about that."

"Two? Optimistic," Caroline says around an eyeroll. "I can handle Klaus. Leave him to me."

"Oh, I will. That problem is all yours."

Caroline chuckles. "Thank you, Jackson."

"Don't thank me. All you've done, since the day I met you, was try to help us, Caroline. I'm really sorry that I couldn't be there to help you when you needed me the most," he says, remorse clouding his features.

"Jack -"

"I mean it. It's one of my greatest regrets, that I couldn't help you and your little girl, while Oliver was involved in all of that, right under my nose. But we can make something good now. Help other people. And maybe prevent something as horrible as what happened to you from ever happening to anyone else. So I'm in. Let's do this."

Warmth spreads all across Caroline's chest. Very few times in her life she's met people she just knew, almost instantly, that she could trust so completely. There's no one she'd want more as a friend, protecting her child, than Jackson.

Caroline stands to her feet and, with slow, tentative steps, approaches him, waiting to see whether the hunger would spike again. When she's convinced it's safe, she opens her arms, waits for him to stand up as well and then gives him a tight hug. "Thank you, Jackson," she says, her voice rich with affection. They pull away after a moment. "I just want you to know... Me not wanting the marriage thing - it has nothing to do with you. I really think you're a great guy and anyone would be lucky to marry you, including me... If I wasn't so madly in love with a crazy hybrid. Who, in a very weird turn of events, loves me right back. I know Klaus is... Complicated."

Jackson scoffs. "That's an understatement."

"But..." she draws out. "For me he is... Something else. He's been something else almost right off the start, even before I had any feelings for him other than hatred. And after everything that happened last spring, honestly... I don't know if I'd still be here if it wasn't for him. For a while there, I... Didn't think I could live with myself." Caroline’s eyes flicker away from Jackson, downwards, and then back as she feels all the shards of her trauma still rattling inside of her, edges dulled after months, but prickly nonetheless. "I held on to Klaus and the way he makes me feel with everything I had, and it has saved me. Truly saved me, in more ways than I can even explain."

"If I didn't know the guy, listening to you talk about him like that, I'd think he's the greatest man alive," Jackson says quietly, a tiny smile curling at the edge of his mouth. "But then, the way he talks about you is pretty much the same. Only difference is, I can see his point."

Caroline smiles, but it fades soon as she's brought back to the moment and reminded of all they have ahead of them in order to get this ritual to happen. Starting with saving the ass of one of the essential parts of the ceremony.

"We just have one big problem now," she says.

"Just one?"

"You were right, Kol  _ is _ my witch. So we need to bust him out."

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They should know better than to fully trust Kol... Of course he'd try to trick them. It's what he does, what he's always done.  _ Kol does what's best for Kol. _ His poor sister was so fatefully right...

Niklaus' decision to leave him to fend for himself against a bunch of murderous vampires was perhaps a bit rash, but Elijah can't disagree. He doesn't know that he'd be able to look at Kol's face knowing he's purposefully disappeared with Rebekah and not want to beat the living daylight out of him, especially given his current disposition for violence. His mother has twisted him up so thoroughly he can now see reason behind Niklaus' reckless aggression.

He hopes Kol manages, anyway. Given a few days, provided Rebekah shows up unscathed, they'll be able to find it in their hearts to forgive him. Maybe.

The most important thing now is to find their sister. The fact she hasn't even gotten in touch with anyone is worrisome. It's more than just a simple case of body displacement. Rebekah is in trouble. And he wants nothing more than to go home and help them find her.

"I need you to trust me, Elijah. I can handle finding Rebekah," Klaus tells him over the phone.

"Brother, you are asking me to stand by and do nothing?"

"Right now, the most important thing is that you are there, protecting Eve. Somebody has to."

He lets out a weary sigh. "So be it," he concedes. He knows exactly why he's been put on baby duty, but Klaus is right. Someone has to look after Eve, and it seems like everyone else has got something to do, even Caroline, who's working on the wolf front - something Klaus mentioned in passing but with enough heat in his voice Elijah knows it probably entails spending an awful lot of time in the company of one Jackson Kenner. That concerns Elijah for several different reasons - reasons he doubts Klaus has been made aware of, or it would've probably been the first thing out of his mouth. He hopes to God she is not seriously thinking about taking that preposterous marriage idea forward. It's simply not worth it.

"I shall remain here, with the hopelessly courageous Camille. She certainly has charisma, even if she does lack stealth," he says as he hears her failed attempts at going unnoticed as she walks out of the house. "Let me call you back."

Elijah puts down the phone and turns around to see Cami watching him warily from the porch.

"I'm sorry," she says, antsy. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just thought you had left, then I heard your voice."

Elijah feels himself awash with shame as he faces the poor woman. He scared the light out of her and then stormed out of the house, went for a long walk around the perimeter and has been sitting outside ever since, thinking of all the trouble brewing far away in New Orleans while he's here, helpless, wallowing in self-pity.

"I owe you an apology," he starts. "My sister's missing. My family's in jeopardy. I am utterly powerless to help them. This is not a state of affairs I'm accustomed to. Perhaps I'm not weathering this ordeal as well as one would hope. Forgive me."

Cami wraps her arms around herself against the chilly night air, but the look in her eyes is pure warmth. She seems awkward, but not scared anymore, not blatantly so, anyway, like she wants to cower and run. She truly does have a remarkable backbone for a human.

"If you ever want to talk about it, it's kind of what I do," she offers softly.

Elijah smiles at her, considering. Maybe they should give this couch thing an honest chance. Can't hurt to try. Caroline is very fond of her, and even Niklaus obviously trusts her, or he wouldn't have brought her here. And anyway... Looks like they have a whole lot of time at their hands.

He decides to leave his troubling thoughts aside for the time being and focus only on the things he can do. Care for his niece. Be a half decent host for Camille, who's not to blame for any of his struggles. And dinner. He can focus on dinner.

"Are you hungry?" he asks. "I can cook a quick pasta, if you like."

She arches her eyebrows at him in genuine surprise. "You  _ cook _ ?"

"Please. We're vampires, not barbarians. I'm a fantastic cook."

"Well, in that case..." She motions towards the door. "Lead the way."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed yet, I really like writing Camille in this story. She's a character I very nearly couldn't stand on TO, and I never originally planned on making her such a major character, but her friendship with Caroline sort of happened as I was writing and she ended up as one of my favorite minor characters here. I do so hate fics that bash female characters for no reason, even the ones I hate, so if you do end up enjoying Cami here, that's a little victory for me!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	11. S02E11 Brotherhood of the Damned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're heading into my absolute favorite part of the story with these next few chapters, so I hope you guys enjoy as the TENSION and the DRAMA unfolds. lol

* * *

The view from Marcel's quarters is absolutely stunning in the early hours of the morning.

The sky is a dirty shade of white, harsh light pushing through clouds to wash out shadows and nuance as far as the eye can see. Tall buildings disappear into the far distance, looming ominously over the shorter, older constructions of the old city. It's a crude sort of beauty, unadorned and unapologetic. Almost brutal. Klaus itches for his paints and brushes.

There's a strong sense of melancholy as well, and he takes that is probably why Marcel chose this spot. From here, he can admire the city he once had laid at his feet, now nothing but outlines in the horizon, like a dream. A reminder of all his missteps and failures that must bite deep into his guts, a sorrow that eats away on the inside. Klaus knows the feeling, intimately. He's lost his home once, his beloved city. Lost his family. His very north when Caroline died. And his daughter. It's a pain that dulls away with time, but never quite vanishes.

He supposes Marcel deserves the punishment, though. All's forgiven where he's concerned, but not forgotten. He should flounder in his melancholia, sink deep into the well of his own guilt, as Klaus has done for the better part of the last six months. It'll teach Marcel an invaluable lesson, Klaus hopes: never to stand against him again.

He would, of course, never want to trade the buzz and heartbeat of the French Quarter for a flat in Algiers Point, but he can see the appeal. Perhaps he might come here someday, once this madness has run its course, and have a drink with his old friend while the sun sets over the river.

Now, however, is not the time for that. He's got much to do and a long day ahead of him. Another one. His days never seem to end anymore, all merging into an endless string of disasters.

He spent most of the previous night roaming around the cemetery, searching for Finn. Esther's tomb was empty, but his dignified brother never fulfilled his part of the bargain, just as Klaus expected; Marcel and the rest of the vampires - as well as Kol - remain firmly locked away in the compound. The wench was nowhere to be found, and neither was Finn. Wouldn't even pick up his phone to be appropriately berated, the bastard. This has served only to prove yet again that it is useless to try and reason with his brother. He'll back down for nothing, and is probably angrier now that mother dearest has joined the dark side and left him alone in his crusade, therefore making him more dangerous than ever. Finn is a wild card, and one with nothing to lose and a thousand years’ worth of resentment.

On Klaus’ to-do list for the day are finding his brother before he gets a chance to strike back, getting the hunger spell broken, the barrier around the compound lowered and then locating Rebekah. Not much, then.

He's putting on his shirt, getting ready to leave, when he hears the stomping sounds of angry footsteps.

What is Caroline upset about now?

He hasn't seen her since he reluctantly left her in Jackson Kenner's hands. He had things to do and couldn't watch her while she recovered, not to mention he figured it would be safer for her to be taken as far away from the Quarter as possible, in case the hunger didn't break. And if she suddenly found herself inclined to feed on Jackson’s werewolf blood, well... Klaus wouldn't be too heartbroken over it. He doubted it would be the case, though. Spells like the one Finn cast usually come with range limitations. It would be impossible to encompass the entire city, or it wouldn't be as effective.

The two of them must've had a pleasant, uneventful evening, and that's as far as Klaus has allowed himself to ponder over it, lest he began to regret the decision to heed her advice and trust that sneaky sod. Klaus has got too much in his mind already to be festered with jealousy. Which is why, when his own hunger became too much for him to bear, he decided to make a little snack in the Quarter and then retreat to Marcel's place for the night, rather than go to her in the swamp. Didn't want to risk running into something he wouldn't like - and he can safely say there's very little that wouldn’t fall into the category of things that would make Klaus want to rip something to shreds.

He got a message from her before the sun had even risen, asking where he was. He told her Algiers and she seems to have correctly deducted where. But he wasn't expecting her to show up so soon.

"Seriously?" she's barking at him the second she crosses the threshold, an annoyed line between her eyebrows. "What were you thinking? Leaving Kol at the compound, surrounded by a bunch of starving vampires?!"

"Good morning to you, too, love," he speaks flatly. "It's lovely to see you, glad you've made a full recovery. How was your night in the Bayou?"

"Long. Why did you do that?" Caroline plants herself beside him, arms folded across her chest, eyebrows bunched in a demanding expression.

"Because Kol botched Rebekah's body jump. He deliberately sent our sister to a different body than the one we agreed upon and, considering no one's heard from her in almost two days, it doesn't look like it was an auspicious change. He is the only one who knows where she is and he's withheld the information all this time. If I hadn't figured it out, he wouldn't have said a word. He got exactly what he deserved."

The fierce judgement on her expression wavers, but she keeps her stance. "Kol is a jackass, that's been pretty much established since the beginning of time. But he's also your brother. You can't seriously leave him to die."

"Since when do you care so much about Kol?"

"I don't. I'm just... Indignant. It’s the principle of the thing, Klaus," she says, with a lot less assurance than she probably intended. "You pulled me out of there, but not him. He already thinks you don't care."

"He's not exactly doing much to _make_ me care, is he? If Kol had any doubts over whom I'd choose to save in a fire between the two of you, he's an even greater idiot than I believed him to be. But there's no need to get incensed," he says, raising his tone to cut her off before she gets a chance to start complaining once more. "I don't mean for Kol to die. I just want him scared enough to fess up. Marcel is watching him."

"Marcel is one of those hungry vampires, and even if he's got the greatest restraint this world's ever seen, he's still one against dozens. The longer they stay there, the harder it'll be to resist temptation."

"Good. It'll keep Kol on his toes. We'll get him out of there, no need to get your hackles up."

Caroline grunts, face snapping towards the window. "What's with all those freaking church bells?"

Klaus hadn't even noticed, to be honest, but she's right. He can hear the chiming coming from all over. He'd completely forgotten what the day was. "It's Carillon eve," he explains. Caroline looks at him as though he's spoken Greek. "The locals shroud the eyes of angels so the dead can walk among us for a night without judgement. The bells wake the dead and guide them to eternal rest."

"How appropriate," she mutters.

"As much as I would love to stay and get berated by you," he snarks as he throws on his jacket. "I have things to do."

"Where are you going?"

"To find my runaway brother and make him take down the barrier so your dear Kol can hang on to his life until I get my hands on him for disappearing with Rebekah." He starts to walk to the door, throwing over his shoulder as he does so, "You're welcome, by the way. For saving your life."

He smiles when he feels her eyes drilling holes onto his back.

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To make a believer out of a skeptical - especially one with a thousand years of baggage - is one of the hardest accomplishments anyone could ever achieve. Caroline has done so when she revived his faith in his Niklaus’ redemption. It does not seem like Camille will be as successful.

Elijah does commend her disposition, however, and she has certainly put some honest dedication into what she's doing, might even be a great alienist to her human clients. He just happens to be a slightly more complex beast.

How does one begin to talk about their deepest afflictions to someone they barely know? And how is doing that supposed to help?

Perhaps he should've given this whole thing a proper thought before accepting to sit down with her. He doesn't want to be rude, though. So he lets her dissertate over her methods, credentials and initial impressions while he lazily plays with the daylight ring on his finger, wondering how exactly he might be able to shorten their session without making it too obvious he thinks this drivel is all a big waste of time.

"Our goal here is to confront your subconscious," Camille says, very professionally. "An element of my thesis is on suppression of past trauma and how it can manifest in aberrant and often violent behavior."

"You wouldn't happen to have been inspired by my brother, by any chance?"

She grins. "I'm ethically forbidden from discussing any other patients with you."

"You know, I believe it was 1897 that a dear friend of mine - let's just call him the godfather of modern psychoanalysis - mentioned something similar to me over tea in a Viennese café," he muses.

"Are you name dropping Freud now?" Elijah smirks lightly. Not his fault if he has had the chance to sit down for a chat with some of the most brilliant minds of history. Freud wasn't all that interesting, though. Elijah would refute many of his theories. "Ok. Well, here's something I know that even Freud didn't."

"Oh, do tell," he says, shuffling on his seat.

"What it's like when someone takes away your deepest, ugliest pain without your consent. It is both a blessing and a complete violation. Sound familiar?" Her eyes flash as she speaks, and Elijah feels a bit of a stab somewhere. He does relate to the feeling, though the nature of what Niklaus did to her and what his mother has done to him are entirely different. "Let's begin, then," she continues after a moment, when he fails to fill the silence. Camille waves a hand in front of her. "Start with what you've referred to as the red door."

He told her a little bit about the imagery haunting his thoughts the night before, as they had dinner. She was very engrossed, made a few questions, and he later saw her taking down notes, probably preparing for their _session_ this morning. Elijah didn't reveal anything too compromising, none of the actual horrors he's committed or the forged ones his mother planted as cautionary tales. It was enough to leave him reeling, though. But it did feel good to get some of this out of his chest, he has to say. Sharing his pain felt a bit like solace. He thinks, however, he'd feel much more comfortable talking to Camille as a friend than as a therapist, someone who's analyzing his every word and trying to pry into his mind. The discomfort is far greater.

Sadly, it appears to be too late to go back now.

"That's an image from my past... My youth. It was the door to a slaughterhouse. Sometimes it appears to me in flashes. It's a memory, but it's also a metaphor. It's a place where unspeakable deeds dwell in darkness."

"And have there been many?"

"Look, Camille, you know I'm no stranger to violence." He stands up, walking over to the window. He can't stand having her staring at him so closely. "Typically, however, I am possessed of a certain control. It's always been like this. I'm certainly a lot more composed, if you will, than any of my siblings. However, now and then, I can become consumed with chaos and untethered from that control, I..." He trails off, closing his eyes for just a second; Tatia's beautifully, hauntingly dead face flares up. "This is where the deeds are concealed, behind that door."

"Why that particular door?"

"That was where the first woman I ever loved told me she loved me in return," he says. "It's also where I laid her body after I took her life." Elijah turns back to Camille. She hastily tries to cover it up, but not so fast that he doesn't catch the horror on her face, the shock. Elijah draws the air in, bracing himself for the confession. "No one knows this, not even Niklaus. My brother loved Tatia as deeply as I did. He still believes that mother killed her. Not only is this a lie, it's a lie of my creation, and my brother doesn't forgive. He doesn't forget. I took the woman he loved from him. Therefore, I think it's best that I forget, for both our sakes."

He's suddenly stricken by a wave of dizziness, and has to grab the back of a chair to keep his balance.

"Elijah?" Camille asks, leaning forward on her seat. She's but a blur before his eyes.

He gets a sickness at the pit of stomach, a violent heat that seems to crawl up his legs, taking his chest until it eventually engulfs his entire being, and Elijah sees or feels no more.

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Klaus is surrounded by incompetents.

He has, of course, terrible luck as well, the tide is definitely not in his favor. Mostly, however, he is surrounded by incompetents. Including Davina Claire, who's supposed to be an all-powerful Harvest witch and is yet to locate Finn, despite the fact she has every reason to commit to the task.

Klaus rounded every single corner of the Quarter after his brother. Not even his closest, most loyal werewolf followers knew of his whereabouts, not even in the face of imminent death. He simply vanished. Except evil sorcerers don't just _disappear_ like that, and Esther is no longer able to help him, which tells Klaus he must be channeling something in order to make himself impervious to detection.

He called Marcel on the way, confirming that Kol is both regrettably still alive and just as steadfast in his refusal to share Rebekah's whereabouts as before. But it turns out that's not even the most urgent of their problems. In amid the chaos before the wolves were removed from the compound, Marcel ended up bitten. He needs Klaus’ blood, fast, or he's not going to last much longer. And if Marcel succumbs, Kol will go right after. Their clock just started ticking faster.

Davina was the obvious next stop. But if she aims to save her best friend and her new boyfriend, she better start sharpening this alleged super powers of hers, or they'll be both dead long before they manage to get that barrier down.

"Haven't you found Finn yet?" he prods, pacing around the church. St. Anne's is a good place to hone her powers, she said, there's a lot of magical energy she can draw from. She's tried at least two different types of spell and is now drawing some gibberish on the floor using rock salt. It's taking forever. "I must say, for a witch of your caliber, your spells are not particularly efficient."

"Finn is blocking my spell, so I'm trying something new. But I need to concentrate and it would help a lot if you would stop standing over me like a stalker," she snaps, glowering at him.

"No need to be testy, love. We both have the same goal."

"Really? Because my goal is to get Kol out of your house alive, which seems to be about number ten on your list."

"Number nine, at least."

Davina lights up a candle and puts it down inside the salt circle with an annoyed thud. "What is wrong with you? He's your brother."

"Yes. And I also have a sister, one who he happens to have disappeared with. So until he tells me where she is, Kol can rot, as far as I'm concerned. And you might want to get your villains straight, love, because Finn is the architect of this fiasco. So pick up your pace, find out where he's getting his power from so we can stop it," he barks at her, voice booming across the church as it escalates until he's nearly shouting.

His patience, you see, is rather frail. There's only so much chiding he can take in one day and his quota for getting abused over Kol has been thoroughly filled by Caroline already. If Davina knows what's good for her, she'll keep her mouth shut and get hastily to work.

She makes a scornful little grimace at him and then puts her palms forward, chanting under her breath. Klaus feels a light breeze that seems to come from nowhere as the magic takes root. She stops less than a minute later, snapping her eyes at him. "I saw glimpses of Finn. He's combining sacred objects, totems. It's like... representational magic," she says.

"Where is he?"

Davina closes her eyes once more, the lines on her forehead deepening as she concentrates to dig in deeper. "Lafayette number 1, the Lyonne tomb."

"And what's he using?"

Her eyes fly wide open as her expression morphs into one of shock. "He's channeling your parents."

Klaus laughs sardonically under his breath. "And here I thought I was the poster child for least grateful offspring." This is of extreme concern in several different levels, but he does not fail to see the beauty of the fact. It serves both Mikael and Esther right to get betrayed by their favorite child. While they focused all their strengths into eliminating the bastard threat, the little snake they nurtured so dearly was preparing to strike right under their noses. Oh, the irony...

"Well, then. You and I can go crashing their little party," he announces as he strides towards the exit. Before he gets there, though, he’s stopped by a mind-bending rush of dizziness, the whole world tilting dangerously around him. His blood begins to boil inside his veins.

"Now who needs to pick up the pace?" Davina speaks from somewhere really, really far away.

Everything goes out of focus at once, and then Klaus tumbles to the ground, shrouded in darkness.

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When he opens his eyes again, he's no longer at the church, no longer on the floor either. He's standing in the middle of an unfamiliar room. Or rather... A hunting hut, it seems. The air feels stuffy inside, heavy in his lungs, and everything is a bit washed out, slightly blurred. He has absolutely no idea where this is or how he ended up in this place.

"Niklaus?"

He whips around and sees Elijah is there as well, and just as disoriented as he is, judging by the expression on his face. How...?

"You two?" Kol says as he steps out of the shadows.

"What is this?" Elijah demands, a certain urgency in his tone.

Klaus frowns, taking in his surroundings. There are four columns in the hut, and a chair by each of them. Above each chair, hanging on the column, is a stuffed animal's head, four creatures in total: a stag, a boar, a fox and a wolf.

"This is a chambre de chasse. A hunt room," Kol says as he takes a closer look at the animals. "It's where witches bring their prey for mental target practice. Our bodies are in the real world, laid on the floor, whilst our minds are in here, represented by these creepy animal heads."

The representational magic Davina mentioned seeing in her divulging spell.

"Let me take a wild guess as to who's the author of this nightmare. Finn!" Klaus snarls. "Show yourself!"

Finn walks in right after, a self-satisfied grin dancing on the corner of his lips. Klaus wastes no time before attacking, but all it takes is a simple wave of Finn's hand and his entire body freezes into place as his brother brushes by him, completely unfazed.

"Save your strength," he says blandly. "In here, I am untouchable. My magic, my rules." He turns to his three brothers, rubbing his palms together, barely able to disguise his sick excitement. "Make yourselves at home," he announces. "We're gonna be here for a while."

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Caroline feels the weight of commitment at the same time she exhales in relief as Aiden deposits dozens of moonlight rings he emptied from his pockets in a bowl in front of her and Jackson.

Jackson called an emergency meeting with the entire pack this morning and even the ones who got closer to the witches showed up. He and Caroline explained to them the core of their idea and said that anyone willing to join in would have to give up their rings as a proof of loyalty. A ripple of uncertainty traveled through the crowded room; she could tell the purists in the group just by the way their eyes flashed at her. That's ok; she didn't expect a bunch of proud werewolves to be immediately happy with the idea of having a vampire disrupting one of their ancient rituals. But Caroline reminded them what was at stake, with an added twist of the blade as she casually threw in that the reason she's a vampire at all is because the very witches they now served had killed her while she gave birth to her part werewolf daughter, who would've been in line to be a Crescent alpha one day. They at least had the decency to look guilty. Most of them, anyway.

She wasn't all that optimist, though, with the vast majority seeming incredibly uncomfortable. Her and Jackson left to allow the group to discuss among themselves, with Aiden as their representative. But it seems her little emotional blackmail worked. By the number of rings he brought, almost everyone must've adhered to the cause.

Which means, now that it's out, they don't have a choice to back down anymore. They _have_ to deliver on their promise. Caroline's not getting cold feet, but... It's a hell of a lot of pressure.

"That's the last of them," he says. "Everyone out here is officially ring free."

"You're better off for it," she tells Aiden.

"That's easy for you to say. You don't have to turn every full moon and you get to keep your super powers all the time. I'm back to having every bone in my body breaking and bending once every month and if the wolves who are loyal to Finn come back, they're gonna rip right through us," he remarks bitterly, obviously still freaked out over their sensitive situation. Caroline wants to say that they got into that mess all by themselves, but she knows he's right. They're more exposed than ever now. "I gotta ask. When's this wedding?"

"It's not a wedding," both her and Jackson answer at the same time. Jackson in a drawled, bored intonation, Caroline clearly fretting.

"It's a ritual ceremony, _not_ a wedding," she corrects, incisively. "Don't go out there saying it's a wedding. _No one_ should be under the impression that this is going a wedding, do you understand?"

"Jesus," Aiden mumbles, taken aback by the heat of her reaction. "Yeah, I got it. Chill."

"If Klaus gets wind that we're calling this a wedding, Finn won't be the worst of our Mikaelson problems," Jackson clarifies. At least he seems to have understood the urgency in adopting the correct terminology here. Aiden cocks an eyebrow at her, shakes his head like he has no idea what's going on and then shrugs. "Ten more days," Jack continues. "After that, Caroline's powers are your powers. The full moon won't control you anymore. Spread the word. Any wolf who wants in needs to be there to bear witness to the ceremony, and if they still have their moonlight ring..."

"Relinquish it. I know."

"And don't say it's a wedding," she repeats in a clipped tone.

"Yeah, yeah, understood. So what are you guys gonna do?"

"We're going to meet an elder Crescent who's going to conduct the ceremony. She's not very happy about it, but she agreed that the situation is extreme. Then there are the trials."

Caroline whips her face at him, frowning. "I never heard anything about _trials_."

"Don't worry. It's just tradition. We still need to follow these rites, even if your witch can temper with the rest of the ceremony. Speaking of that... How is he?"

"Alive. I spoke to Marcel this morning, he said he, Josh and Gia are keeping an eye on Kol to make sure he doesn't get jumped. I don't know how much longer they can protect him from themselves, though."

"Isn't he a witch?" Aiden asks. "Why can't he protect himself?"

"He's _one_ witch against an entire army. Even if he takes one of them down, there's a dozen more right behind."

Aiden purses his lips moodily. "I just hope Josh doesn't get caught on the wrong end of this mess."

"The goal here is for no one to get caught on the wrong end of this mess. Klaus is supposed to be with Davina now, working on a way to get them all out safely. So." She turns her attention to Jackson, trying to push away the pressing concerns over whatever's happening at the French Quarter right now. She can't personally do anything until they figure out how to lower the barrier, and if she gets within ten feet of that building, she'll be just as ravenous as the rest of them, only _outside_ instead of locked away from the real world. All she can do is wait and hope for the best. What Klaus lacks in enthusiasm about rescuing his brother, Davina has in heaps; silver linings and all. "Any ideas where we can find a Crescent elder?"

Jackson smirks. "Well, that depends. You got any interest in meeting my grandma?"

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"At the very least, this prison is a bit more comfortable than the box you held me in for almost 900 years," Finn says, obviously too happy with his little trick.

"Oh, the heads are a nice touch," he replies with mock-interest. "Let me guess... I'm the big bad wolf. Kol, the wily fox. Elijah is the noble stag, of course. And you, fittingly enough, are the boar." Klaus makes full use of his vowels to twist the word, punctuating it with a cheeky grin. A muscle twitches on Finn's jaw. "Bit obvious, as far as symbolism goes. Why are we here? No, wait. Don't tell me. You're upset about mother. You should know I never forced her to drink blood and betray everything she holds dear. That was her choice."

"This isn't about mother, this is about you," Finn snaps. "I want you to know how it feels to be powerless. So I'm gonna take the thing that matters the most." Klaus' breath hitches, the smile sliding off his face, before Finn adds, "The city you love so much."

Klaus huffs out a laugh. Has his brother been paying attention at all or is he simply as blind as Esther when it comes to his siblings? After months of being a constant thorn in his arse, does he honestly believe that the _city_ is the thing that Klaus holds most dear? Well, Klaus is not about to correct his mistake.

"Are we quite done here?" Elijah cuts in, impatience biting at his voice. "You will release us now."

"I will... After sundown. Because after sundown, when the marchers of Carillon Eve take to the streets, my barrier spell drops. Marcel and his hungry vampires will be unleashed to kill their way through the Quarter. I imagine that after the atrocities that will follow, the supernatural community of New Orleans will be forced to find another place to call home," he reveals his evil plan, glowing with pride.

Klaus exchanges a concerned glance with his older brother. This is every shade of problematic. If Marcel and his vampires are allowed out of the compound, the way they are, it'll be a massacre. And Marcel might not even have until sundown. Still... It's not _nearly_ as bothersome to Klaus, personally, as if his brother had realized his worst weakness currently answers by the name of Caroline Forbes. As long as he stays away from her... They can manage. Although he suspects other people might feel differently.

"Oh, wow," he says flatly. "I have to say, brother, for someone who claims to be fighting the righteous war against _monsters_ , you certainly do seem to be in deep touch with your evil villain streak. Almost makes me proud."

"I'm nothing like you. This is to teach you a lesson."

"And the way to do that is by slaughtering the innocent people you claim to be protecting?"

"Every war requires sacrifices. This will purge your god-awful lot from the city. In the long term, they will thank me."

"New Orleans has been living with its supernatural community since its very cornerstone. You think you know what these people want, but you don't. You know nothing about this city, or about us, or about humanity. All you want is to get your petty revenge, and for that you're willing to sacrifice hundreds of people. Tell me, brother. Who's the real monster here?"

Finn's eyes darken, glinting with rage. He makes it so easy to taunt him, bites so hungrily onto every lazy bait laid out before him, it's almost a waste not to take advantage of it.

"I don't care about the bloody city," Kol cuts in. "What I care about is that my _very_ human body is lying at the feet of those hungry vampires right now. Your fight is with them, Finn," he says, pointing his finger at both him and Elijah, the little traitor. Already jumping ship to save his own skin. "It's not with me."

"All you care about is your own fragile mortality," Finn fires back at him. Not even he can stand Kol's whining. "But what if you were made even more vulnerable? What then?" He puts a hand forth, and blood starts running down Kol's nose.

"Ok," he says, wiping it with the back of his hand, his expression smoothing into sheer fright. If he's bleeding in here, he must be bleeding out in the real world, which means... "Point made. Nobody loves a joke more than old fox boy, here, but if you could just get me back to my body -"

"I must confess, I rather enjoy watching you twist in the wind." Elijah approaches their younger brother, offering him the handkerchief out of his pocket. "Not unlike the way you left Rebekah, I imagine."

"Yes. What _did_ you do to Rebekah?" Finn inquiries, genuinely interested.

"For goodness' sake. She crossed me, so I crossed her back. I suppose you lot wouldn't know anything about retribution," Kol grumbles in annoyance.

"Rebekah cared for you more than any of us," Elijah spits at him, his eyes as sharp as knives.

"And she still lied to me, rattled me out to Nik and caused me to spend almost one hundred years in a box. Months later, I was dead."

"Oh, enough with the theatrics, Kol," Klaus says with a snap in his tone. "I told you already I mourned your death. And so did Rebekah. She cried for days."

"But you left me to die at the compound!"

"Because you deserved to be taught a lesson."

"You had no qualms escorting Caroline out, did you, though? Didn't she deserve to be taught a lesson?" Klaus scoffs, shaking his head at his brother's complete lack of awareness. "Oh, that's right. You don't know."

"Kol," Elijah admonishes.

He turns to his older brother, whose gaze is deliberately not meeting his, and then back to Kol, the perfect picture of smugness. Normally this type of cheap provocation would fly right by him, but Elijah's suspicious reaction gives him pause.

"What is he talking about?" he directs at Elijah.

"Did she tell you, Elijah?" Kol prods. "Then I guess that makes you the only one left out of the loop, brother dearest. Oh, that is just _cruel_ \- in my personal opinion, of course, but what do I know?"

"Stop this nonsense now," he demands, temper quickly flaring. "What are you talking about? Spit it out already or shut your mouth."

Kol's eyes glimmer with delight as a slow smirk creeps onto his lips. "Your bird came to me yesterday asking if I could help her with a certain werewolf ritual. A _wedding_ ritual. She wants to get hitched to that Jackson bloke."

"That's absurd," Klaus spits back at him without missing a beat. Such a ridiculous and farfetched idea he almost starts laughing. Of course that's not true. Caroline, marrying Jackson? _Please._ But then when he looks at Elijah, at the way his eyebrows are bunched together in a disgusting expression of _pity_ and remorse... "Elijah," he says in a near plea, his chest tightening painfully as he searches his brother's eyes, waiting, _begging_ him to deny it. " _Elijah_ ," he grits out.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, casting his eyes downwards. "I didn't think she'd go through with it," he says apologetically.

It's as though the floor suddenly vanishes from under his feet. Coming from Kol, he could chalk it up as cheap teasing. He's a prankster, a vicious little vengeful bugger. He could be making it all up just to draw a reaction out of him. But Elijah... Elijah wouldn't lie to him. If he knows about this, it's because Caroline told him. Which means...

For a long, disorienting moment, Klaus can't grasp the full meaning of the information. And then it hits him with full force, like a fist closing around his heart and yanking it out of his chest, stealing the air off his lungs and leaving him utterly at loss.

She wants to marry Jackson. All those long hours she'd been spending in the Bayou, the calls to meetings for _moral support_ , the secret encounters, sneaking around the compound, just the two of them, behind closed doors - _right under his roof_.

What strikes Klaus first is not anger, not rage, which are feelings he understands, feelings that are as natural to him as breathing. Something builds up inside of him that he cannot identify at first - disbelief or the biggest sense of disappointment. It comes over him like soft rain, putting all his fire out, leaving him empty and lost.

Klaus simply does not know what to do with himself.

"Look, if you could just get me back to my body, I will tell anybody anything they need to know," Kol speaks after what feels like hours of an excruciating silence, bringing the attention back to the issue at hand. Suddenly he can't care less about any of this. The city. The vampires. None of it matters.

"How narrow-minded of me," Finn says. "You two don't know where our sister is, and the only thing standing between you and her is this selfish fool here. Maybe it's time you go enjoy the rest of your life while you still can." With a flick of his wrist, Kol vanishes out of thin air, and then it's just the three of them.

"Now..." Finn continues, turning to him and Elijah with a smooth smile. "Let's discuss the matter of Caroline Forbes, shall we?"

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"You look nervous."

Caroline lets out a quick bark of laughter. She has been low-key freaking out from the moment Jackson said _grandma_. To her credit, she did her best to keep the worst of it off her features, but the closer they get to the cottage, the more anxious Caroline gets.

The deeply personal nature of this ritual hadn't been so clear to her before. She was looking at it from her own perspective, that of an outsider, someone getting into a business arrangement. And now that it has finally dawned on her that she's on her way to meet Jackson's direct family, his only living relative and one of the last remaining Crescent elders, she can't really say that it has amounted to make her feel exactly confident. It makes her think of how much of his own roots Jackson is really going against here just to make this happen the way she wants it to. It's flattering, in a way, that he would bestow this much trust upon her, a witch-turned-vampire with very little knowledge of his people's traditions, but it is also an incredibly heavy weight to carry. The pressure is... Overwhelming, to say the least.

And to think she's about to meet Jack's grandmother and she hasn't even told Klaus yet…

Things are moving way too fast, much faster than she ever thought it would. It leaves her reeling. All day now she's been getting this terrible bite of guilt, her every instinct screaming that she should put a pause to this and sit down with Klaus to explain the situation before anything else happens. But considering the concessions Jackson is already making, it doesn't seem fair. His guys are freaked out. Every time she sees Aiden, he looks like he's about to have a stroke. If they wait any longer, they'll lose everyone, and they might not get a second chance. The people who have already given up on their rings will be _furious_ . They'll be looking at an uprising, for sure, and no one's gonna suffer more than Jackson. They can't postpone it because Caroline needs a minute to woman up and grow the courage to talk to Klaus. Wedding or not, she knows he'll be spitting fire, and it'll take a lot of patience and a lot of great, irrefutable arguments and some good dose of reverse psychology to get him to be cool about it. And if he doesn't... Well. She doesn't even want to consider the alternative, however likely it might be. Klaus is unpredictable, but the one thing she can be sure of is that he'll _hate_ this arrangement, no matter what.

She feels _sick_. This whole thing is already giving her an ulcer and she's pretty certain vampires can't even get those. It's hard to tell what frightens her the most: meeting grandma Kenner, these trials Jackson spoke about or Klaus' reaction. From a completely selfish and personal point of view, Klaus is likely to resonate much deeper.

The most important thing is that he cannot find out before she gets a chance to tell him herself. Which means she needs to do it soon. Too many people are in on it already. Klaus has eyes all over the Quarter, no doubt it'll soon reach his ears that the wolves are cooking something up in the Bayou and that she's right in the middle of it. She was going to tell him today, but then he walked out on her in a hurry, and when she got to the Bayou Jackson dragged her into that meeting with the pack and then before she knew it, she was being led towards his grandmother's house to start on the ceremonial rites and she has no idea how long this will take. Not _too_ long, hopefully. Maybe she'll be home by dinner time tonight, the mess at the compound will be over, Kol will be safe and then she can crack open a Bordeaux, put on some fancy lingerie and... persuade Klaus to the best of her abilities.

And before she even gets to face the big angry wolf, she still needs to pass this Grandma Kenner test. No pressure, then.

"You think?" she replies after a beat. "On a scale from one to hybrid, how much exactly do you think your grandmother hates me?"

"Look... Mary knows all about you. Nothing happens without her knowing it. I told her when you moved to the camp with us. She knows your story, knows how you stood up for us, how you helped us break out of Marcel's curse, how you were there for us during the bombs. She also knows what the witches did to you and your daughter, so you can relax. She may not like vampires, but she does not feel for you the same way she feels for every other vampire, or hybrid, for that matter."

"But now I'm getting you to go against a millennium old tradition. In my experience, grandmothers are usually not big fans of that. Doesn't she think I'm a disruptive influence over her grandson?"

Jackson smiles warmly. "Let's fix this misunderstanding here. You're not _getting_ me to do anything, Caroline. I'm doing it because I want to. I'm a big boy. It's my responsibility as the clan's alpha, they chose me for a reason. They trusted that I would have their best interests at heart, and this is exactly what I'm doing here. Standing up for my people, no matter the cost. Mary understands that as well. It'll be fine. Really, just relax."

"Easier said than done," she mutters under her breath. "I don't think I've ever been this nervous about meeting anybody's families before. I'm usually _great_ with families. Families _love_ me."

"Well, I should probably tell you, then... I've never brought any girls here to meet her before."

Caroline throws her head back with nervous laughter. "Oh, wow! That's _great_. No pressure!"

"At least she doesn't have anyone to compare you with."

"Well, the good news is, I am probably establishing a very low bar for any actual girlfriends you bring here in the future, so."

"Cute as all this is, y'all are late."

Caroline freezes when an elderly lady with hair as white as snow steps out of the woods right in front of them. Despite her obvious old age, she looks _tough_ , commanding with her rich southern drawl. Caroline is instantly intimidated.

"Grandma Mary," Jackson says, radiating affection as he gives his grandmother a tight hug. She kisses him on the cheek, petting his face as he pulls way, motioning towards her. "Mary, this is Caroline."

Caroline doesn't know if she's blushing under the woman's fierce stare, but she just assumes that she is. "Mary. Hi. It's so nice to meet yo-"

"You can turn off your charm now, darling. You two are late, we need to get started. Come on." She beckons for them to follow as she starts walking.

So not off to a good start, then.

She clears her throat and catches up with Mary.

"Right. So. Rituals. What are those, exactly? Sorry, I'm a little... Unfamiliar," she asks.

"Nothing fancy. Fasting, purification, the rite of divulgement, to name a few."

"The rite of what?"

"Oh, it's simple," Mary says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You speak the truth. He speaks the truth. Secrets are cleansed. Everyone is happy."

A shadow crosses Caroline's face as all those nerves quickly turn into a sharp, cold fear. "What do you mean... secrets are cleansed?"

"The two alphas smoke the root of a blue calamus flower."

Blue calamus. _Oh, no..._ "That's a truth serum."

Mary stops walking, turning back to her with a sympathetic grin. "Right, you used to be a witch. So you know these things. It links your heart and minds together. The ceremony won't take if there are lies between you. Even if you're not really getting married, you still need to deliver on the basic prerequisites. Hope you don't have too many skeletons in your closets." Mary chuckles, turning back and starting to walk again. But Caroline doesn't follow.

She stands rooted to her spot, a sense of defeat falling over her. "I'm not doing that," she speaks lowly. Both Jackson and Mary whip around with the exact same expression on their faces, their foreheads wrinkled in bafflement.

"What?" Jackson questions, blinking at her.

She shakes her head, her lips parting and closing several times before she finds her voice. "I'm sorry, Jack. I can't."

Caroline whirls around and storms off into the woods, heading back the way they came from.

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"Poor Niklaus... You look distraught, brother." Finn makes a faux sad face, pursing his lips. Klaus stares at him with such hostile intent he might set Finn on fire. He hasn't said a word in minutes, bitter hurt etched onto every line of his expression, and yet Elijah hasn't got a clue what's going through his mind right now.

He cannot believe what Kol said is true. Caroline wouldn't do that. She especially wouldn't do that without telling Klaus. She sounded torn when she told him about her findings of this ritual, and convinced that there was some kind of grandiose gesture behind her sacrifice, but she'd also seemed terribly heartbroken over the thought of giving up on Niklaus. How could she make up her mind so fast? Or had she already been made up when she came to him, and Elijah simply understood it all wrong? Perhaps she wasn't asking for his opinion; she was confessing.

No. That cannot be. Kol must've been lying. But then how did he find out about it? Elijah cannot imagine Caroline would've ever gone to him for counseling on the matter. This is all very confusing.

And Finn is obviously reveling in the opportunity to take advantage of Klaus' obvious disgruntlement. This is why they never liked Finn. He doesn't care about anyone's feelings but his own. He feels no compassion, no empathy. It should be his job, as the eldest brother, to care for Niklaus, but ever since they were children, it was Elijah and Rebekah who tended to and fostered him, held his hand when he was afraid, had his back when he needed support, shielded him from the horrors of their father when he needed protection. And now, just as before, Finn would rather trample over his brokenness than show commiseration. It makes Elijah want to rip out his heart and _chew_ on it.

"Seems you do have a heart, after all," Finn continues, taking a step forward, hands clasped behind his back as he watches Niklaus closely. "I appreciate the irony here. You know, I was thinking of discussing your father. Your real one. You longed to know him your whole life, yet at the first opportunity, you murdered him. Why, I wondered."

With rage simmering under darkened eyes, Niklaus walks up to their brother, staring him down. "Possibly the same reason you took out Esther. Severing parental ties has a way of freeing one up to recognize one's true potential." He brushes by Finn, bumping against his shoulder, and goes to stand on the other side of the hut, his back turned to them.

"Quite... But Esther was no fool. She pinpointed your wants, and knowing your true father was at the top of the list... Or so we thought. I figured something else must occupy the top of your list of affections, and it's not your favorite city. I'm about to take it from you, using your own vampires, and I barely get a rise out of you. I thought maybe it was Rebekah, but you remained calm even when the one person who knows of her fate probably just met his."

"I am fighting a monumental desire to mount your severed head upon one of these walls," Elijah cuts in.

"Then I thought it was your favorite brother," Finn continues, pointing towards Elijah. Niklaus shuffles around to face them, looking positively mutinous now. "But mother broke him into a thousand little pieces and rather than fix him, you left him to fend for himself God knows where."

"Are you quite done, Finn?" Elijah grits out, raising his tone voice.

Finn grins, opening his arms and letting them fall next to his body. "The truth had been right under our noses all this time and not even mother took it seriously. Niklaus Mikaelson, lost in love for a _witch_ . Quite the scandal! I didn't think it was possible for you to care that much about a mortal. You never had any appreciation for mortal lives. Always thought them weak, beneath you. Tell me, brothers - and I suppose both of you can answer me that - what is the secret of Caroline Forbes? Knowing that she has captivated both of you this fiercely makes me wish I could meet her properly. There must be something _special_ about that girl. Or is it that she's just a pretty piece of meat you two like to play around with?"

A feral roar rips out of Niklaus' chest, his eyes mad with rage as he advances towards Finn. Again, their brother merely lifts a finger and he's stopped, frozen with one of his arms lifted, anger radiating off of him in waves. "Touch her and I will gladly relieve your hands of all your fingers one by one," he speaks, his voice rumbling low like thunder.

"Calm down, brother. We're having an interesting conversation here. I can understand how the pregnancy might've affected you both. I mean, Elijah, of course, always the caretaker, would've jumped right in at the opportunity to have a family. Mother realized that about you right away," he says, looking at him. "How the loss of that child affected you, how much you longed for your own. But you..." he turns back to Niklaus, pointing a finger at him. "You were far more complicated to decipher. Your motivations weren't immediately obvious. For months you remained locked away at the compound while that girl roamed free around the Bayou. It didn't seem like you were that involved. Mother thought your obsession was just possessiveness. You do tend to be very territorial. I mean, why else would the rabid, vicious Original hybrid care about a pregnant girl and her unborn child? It all became clearer as you proved how far you were willing to go to take control of the city. The idea of having an heir must've appealed to you. Such vanity..."

"Do not speak of my daughter," Niklaus spits venomously at Finn from behind grit teeth.

"Believe it or not, Niklaus, I am sorry for your child's fate. But there was no other choice. Your first born had to die so that a greater evil, greater than anything we've ever known, wouldn't be brought upon us all. Just like my beloved sister Freya, all those years ago. Now, Caroline is obviously not viable anymore, but you could still have children, no? Have you tried? With Camille, perhaps? She's lovely. Treacherous, but beautiful. She would do a fine mother."

" _Shut up!_ "

Elijah tries to attack Finn from the back, but the magic in this place must respond so deeply to him that he doesn't even have to turn to stop Elijah. One snap and he's glued to his spot, his legs refusing to answer to his commands.

"No, dear brother; you haven't tried for a new heir, have you?" Finn prods on, as though he refuses to lose the thread he's pulling at here. "You don't just want anybody's child, do you? Maybe you never even wanted the child after all. What you want... is Caroline." His face breaks into a thousand watts smile. "But it seems like she doesn't want you anymore."

" _Enough_ ," Elijah bellows. "What is the purpose of this charade?!"

"The purpose is to figure out the puzzle, Elijah. I know you're hiding something from me. And I'm not entirely convinced yet that it is the nature of Niklaus' true feelings for Caroline. As unbelievable as that might be, he hasn't exactly been trying to disguise it. No... This is something big. Something dark. Something that maybe Niklaus' real father came to find out about, which is why he paid with this life."

"You want to know why I killed my father?" Niklaus asks, his voice low and grave. "When blood relations let me down, I don't stop to reason with them. I remove them."

"So the secret is there is no secret? You long for nothing? Care for no one but a small-town beauty queen who clearly doesn't regard you the same way? I don't believe you, brother. It's clear to me you're hiding something and as I control your presence here, I've got all the time in the world to figure out just what that might be. And I will."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Caroline! Caroline, wait!"

Jackson has been calling out to her for ages now, but Caroline does not stop, does not slow down.

"Come on! Let's talk about this!"

She keeps going, desperate to find the way out of this goddamn swamp. What was she thinking? Why did she ever believe this would be a good idea? How could she not wager whether or not she'd have to tell Jackson about Eve? No. It's over. This was a stupid reverie and it ends here.

"Please! Just hear me out!"

Caroline shuts her eyes for a second, guilt rattling away inside of her. She dragged Jackson all the way here, only to bail on him like this. And she can't even tell him why. God, she's terrible... The worst person ever. His wolves will be rioting against him and it'll be all her fault.

She stops walking, whirls around to face him. "I can't do it, Jack."

He jogs up to her, catching his breath, his face marred with confusion. "You are not the only one who has stuff they'd rather not talk about."

"Some of my secrets are not mine to tell."

"Maybe a little honesty is a good thing.”

"I live with the Original family. In that family, honesty can get you killed."

"We all have things we hope will never see the light of day, Caroline. You probably won't like what I have to say any more than what you're holding back."

She shakes her head helplessly. "I wish that were true. But it's not the same."

Caroline turns again to leave, but Jackson takes her arm, whirls her back to him. "Caroline..." he starts, softly, her name rolling off his tongue almost like a plea. "Come on. I can't believe you'd just walk out on me like this. This isn't like you."

"I'm sorry, Jackson, I really am. But I didn't know there was a divulgement ritual. If you'd told me before, we wouldn't have come this far."

"I don't understand what the big deal is. I trust you. Blindly. Don't you trust me?"

"This is not about trust."

"Then what is it about?"

"More. It's about more," she says resentfully.

"Look... We're doing something bigger than both of us here. You don't wanna do this the traditional way because you're in love with a Mikaelson, fine. I'll swallow my pride and take the deal because it's important. Think about how many people we're going to save by doing this."

"I know, Jackson. _I know_. But -"

"But nothing. There can't be a _but_ here. If we hesitate, we're doomed. We'll take it one step at a time, and if anything makes you uncomfortable, you tell me and we stop. And when it comes the time to open up, I'll go first. You'll be a part of my pack. We gotta be partners. We'll need to have each other's backs, no matter what. Your friends will be my friends. Even your weird family, I'll help you protect them. Hell, I'll make a toast at your wedding with Klaus." An airy chuckle escapes her mouth. "Your secrets will be my secrets. Your demons will be my demons. And you'll never be alone in a battle again."

Jackson puts his hand out for her to take, looking directly at her, his gaze open and unflinching. Caroline sees nothing but honesty in him. Jackson reminds her of Bonnie in some ways, in how straightforward they both are. The kind of people that inspires blind trust even when you don't know them that well. What you see is exactly what you get. Caroline believes every word that he's said, and she wants so hard to take his hand and move forward with this... But this isn't just about what she wants, or even how she feels. She can't reveal the truth about her daughter without Klaus consenting to it. It's not just her secret to tell and they've been through a hell of a lot to cover it up and keep it buried. Klaus killed his own father for it. It's not fair to him for her to just give it away, no matter how certain she might be of Jackson's pure intentions. They're a team, her and Klaus. It took them forever to get to where they are now, she can't jeopardize everything by making a decision this big without telling him.

She takes Jackson's hand anyway, giving it a light squeeze. "I trust you, Jack. But I can't tell you my secret." She makes a pause, dropping his hand. "I need to speak to Klaus."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"It's a shame, really, for you to lose New Orleans. You fought so hard to make this city a home," Finn speaks conversationally, like this is all just a casual meeting between brothers and they're discussing as mild a subject as the economy or an upcoming election. Elijah is honestly at the very end of his wits. If he cannot kill Finn, he might end up killing himself, just to be free of this. It's impressive how Finn can make even _torture_ boring.

Niklaus has taken a seat on the chair under the wolf head, and Elijah is standing behind him, arm propped on the back of his seat. Finn sits right across from them, beneath the boar. Does he even realize how sadly unironic this is?

"On the other hand, the city hasn't given you much in the way of good fortune," he continues when he gets no response out of Klaus. Finn's brought all of them here, but it's quite clear he has a particular agenda against Niklaus. Elijah has seen the fight bleed out of him, though. Part of him is concern over how suspicious Finn clearly is about their _secret_ ; the other part is likely miles away from here, somewhere in the Bayou, with Caroline and her... Goodness, even thinking of the word brings a sour taste to Elijah's mouth. "You had Marcel's betrayal, father's attack, Caroline's death, the loss of a child..."

"It's a delicate craft, representational magic," Elijah speaks over him, an idea suddenly crossing his mind as he goes digging for everything he's ever learned about this kind of magic. "One must be ever so precise. If you misrepresent us, the very enchantment that his room was built upon would collapse, would it not?"

He can't take another minute of this, and he feels Niklaus is even closer to the breaking point than he is. He'll self-destruct without even getting a chance to confirm Kol's absurd tale. Tedious as he may be, Finn is also cunning and dangerous. If they allow him to keep spinning his thoughts, trying to dredge up a reaction, he'll eventually get there. Already he's dancing too close to the truth for comfort. Extremist as he is, he will not hesitate to attack Eve. This Elijah cannot allow.

"I assure you, you have not been misrepresented," Finn replies, with his customary haughtiness.

"Well, that depends how well the hunter knows his prey," Elijah muses as he walks over to the stag. For so many years, he thought of himself as the noblest of the night creatures, carried himself as such. All of them have blood on their hands, it's part of their very nature. But he was better. Righteous. Moral. All lies of his own fabrication, meant to protect himself from the rot within. But he can feel all of the cracks in his carefully constructed façade now, centuries worth of shame leaking through.

Elijah's stomach roils sickly as fear unravels inside of him. He'll be eternally burdened by the weight of his horrible misdeeds, by what he did to the first woman he ever loved, but Niklaus... Elijah couldn't bear the thought of him ever knowing. And yet... It seems like the cost to break out of this place is to come clean. Reveal the truth about his greatest shame, face real consequences. In a way... It'll be a relief. He deserves to be punished, after all. Perhaps this is exactly what he needs. He stole something precious from Niklaus, not once, but twice. He should have to pay for it, even if the sentence comes too late.

"This façade... This illusion that I have created over the course of my life - the noble stag... Is nothing more than a deception to myself, to everyone." He turns around to face Klaus, who stares at him with that impassive expression, but a question in his eyes. "Were I truly noble, brother, I would not have withheld from you a vile deed. And one that I, like a coward, allowed mother to erase from my memory." He pauses as the words catch in his throat, swallowing down slowly, bracing himself for courage. "It was I who killed Tatia." The entire room tilts and flickers around them. "I hunted her down and, mercilessly, I feasted upon her flesh. I tore her from us. Mother took the blame." Elijah falls down on his knees in the middle of the room, tears prickling behind his eyes as the memories of Tatia's final agonizing moments rush vividly through his mind yet again. "Brother, I felt certain that if you knew... You would in no way ever forgive me. So I chose to forget, and I've lived with this lie for a thousand years."

A dozen different emotions flit across Niklaus' face - disbelief, shock, anger. Elijah hangs his head low, his own heart aching with his confession. His ugliness is now out there, glaringly clear for everyone to see. There's no more hiding behind his suits or his polished speeches. Centuries and centuries casting judgement upon Niklaus, and all this time he was the worst of them all. Tatia trusted him. She believed in him. And Elijah murdered her in cold blood.

"The act may he reprehensible, but your admitting to it proves you to be the man I thought you to be. My magic stands," Finn says after the initial shock clears, though his voice sounds more urgent and less confident, strident, almost.

"Does it?" Niklaus speaks at last, a grim look on his face as he stares down at Elijah. "It turns out my brother is even more depraved than I am. He is the noble stag no longer. Indeed, an altogether different beast is creeping through the cracks." He stands to his feet and walks up to Elijah. For a moment, he thinks he'll kill him, and the thought comes to Elijah as a relief. But then he puts a hand on Elijah's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You have also failed in your representation of me, Finn, because there is one thing you never thought me capable of... Forgiveness." The room flickers again, and Finn shifts nervously in his seat. "You, Finn, have remained a boar for centuries, but here is where your true fault lies. You never learned that the bonds of family far outweigh anything else. Such bonds trump petty jealousies. They overcome ancient feuds and, yes, they are capable of allowing one monster to pardon the great sins of another."

Niklaus looks down at him, and his eyes aren't piercing or severe anymore, but compassionate and warm. Elijah sags under his brother's comforting touch, some of that awful tightness and the storm that's been plaguing his every minute since he woke from that nightmare dissolving into solace. The harshest of judges, the more ruthless of executioners, never one to let betrayals against him go uncorrected, offering him forgiveness. This he did not expect. And neither did Finn, because all around them his illusion begins to collapse. The animal heads he used to represent the four of them burst into flames.

"How is this possible?!" he yells, indignant, as he realizes his powers have been made useless.

"Your magic is as flawed as your perception of your own siblings," Niklaus says. "I wonder, just how untouchable are you?"

At once, both of them launch at Finn, but before they can get their hands on him, the hut vanishes. The next second he's waking up on the floor of the safe house, gasping for air and sitting up so fast he feels dizzy.

"Oh, thank God," Cami says, shifting to the edge of her seat. Apparently, she sat beside him the whole time he was... away. "Are you ok?"

Elijah swallows, trying to think past the mad rhythm of his heart. Strangely enough... This is the best he's felt in a very long time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Marcel's place is a complete mess. Which, in this particular case, is not an entirely good thing. Although it certainly does add to the mystery.

The floor is lined with discarded blood bags. Dozens and dozens of it. On top of the center table, Klaus' eyes recognize one of the vials he gave Marcel with his own blood as part of their agreement after the war.

This gives him two good news, and one not so great one. The first is that Marcel and his vampires managed to make their way over to Algiers once the barrier at the compound was lowered and satiated the remnants of their hunger here. Somehow, they managed to make it past the hordes and hordes of people taking the streets of the French Quarter for Carillon Eve without a single casualty. That's quite remarkable for a bunch of starving baby vamps.

The second piece of good news is that Marcel survived the ordeal, not only long enough to guide his people, but to take the cure.

The bad news is... If they all survived, if they fed and if Marcel is cured of the werewolf bite... Then where the bloody hell are they?

As soon as Klaus came to at the church, he was up on his feet, dragging Davina out with him to try and stop the vampires from slaughtering their way through the Quarter by breaking all their necks, if needed be. But by the time they got there, they were gone. The fact they didn't run into any feasts or widespread panic meant that either something really bad had happened to them, or something miraculously good. He saw Davina find Kol in the middle of the crowd, so that little bugger also succeeded at staying alive.

Klaus felt inclined to stay and knock his head into a wall for whatever part he's played in Caroline's betrayal, but finding Marcel was more urgent. He didn't have much time left. So Klaus went to Algiers next, and it seems like Finn's plan floundered just as that ridiculous chambre de chasse. And yet Marcel and his vampires are nowhere to be found. He's ringed the man twice already, even tried Josh. None of them are picking up.

How can dozens of vampires be strong enough to resist extreme hunger in the middle of an all-you-can-eat buffet and simply vanish like this? Something's very wrong here.

A ring cuts through his thoughts, but it's not Marcel.

"Elijah," he says as he answers, staring out the windows. The view is even more breathtaking at night. Too bad he's in no mood to appreciate it. "How's my daughter?"

"She's in good hands. Camille's taking good care of her. We're both fine. However, if you say the word, brother, I shall return."

"No. You're needed where you are."

"So the city is safe?"

"I wouldn't exactly go flinging around terms like _safe_. There's been no massacre, but Marcel and his vampires have inexplicably disappeared. Kol is in the wind, Rebekah is still lost, Finn is dangerously suspicious of the secrets we keep and Caroline -" Klaus snaps his mouth shut with an audible snap, choking on the words he can't even pronounce.

Anger flares hot inside of him, but the ache in his heart is constricting. Out here, in the real world, it hurts even more. Klaus balls his hands into a fist so tight he might break his own fingers, holding back to not punch through the glass on Marcel's windows and thrash this entire place. He wants to burn something down. Claw the living daylight out of something beautiful.

"Have you spoken to her?" Elijah asks. Klaus doesn't reply. She called him as he was exiting the church with Davina. He felt such an impossible rage rising in him he ignored it and moved on with his task. He doesn't know if he wants to speak to her. Doesn't know what he'll do, hearing from her that she's going to marry someone else. Doesn't know what will be left of him. "Niklaus, don't listen to our brother. You know he was looking to rattle you."

"Didn't you confirm it?"

"When Caroline told me about the wedding ritual," Klaus shuts his eyes, feeling a stab in his chest at that word. "She made it very clear she did _not_ want to marry Jackson. If she went to Kol, of all people, for help, that to me says she was perhaps looking for a loophole."

"If that is indeed true, then why did she not tell me? Why tell everyone else but _me_?"

"Can you truthfully not think of any reasons?" Klaus simply grunts in response. Right now, he doesn't care if Elijah makes sense or not. It doesn't make a bloody difference. "All I'm saying, brother, is don't rush to conclusions. You remember how that went last time. Talk to her."

He goes quiet for a moment, some of that burning ire giving place to something tamer, but just as destructive: fear. "What if it's true, Elijah?" he asks in a small, tight voice. "What then?"

"Then you'll have a decision to make. You can either let her go for the greater good, sacrifice the love you have for her knowing that she is doing the same to keep your daughter safe... Or you can fight for her."

"I've done nothing but fight for her," he grits out. "If she still chooses to marry another -"

"There is a reason behind this, Niklaus. Remember that."

"There may be a thousand reasons. I just don't care."

He ends the call, putting his phone away, trying to quiet down the turmoil inside of him. It's hard to be objective and keep focused on the tasks ahead, finding Rebekah and Marcel, when the woman he loves has just stabbed him in the heart after asking him to _trust_ her and may be about to marry some boorish caveman from -

Klaus hears footsteps approaching. For a moment he almost forgot he’d sent a message to Aiden, asking him to meet him here. He needs someone to stay on Marcel's case while he handles... Everything else. Who better than someone with personal investment in locating the missing vampires? Or one of them, at least.

"Ah. The cavalry has arrived. Took you long enough. No doubt you're eager to save your precious Josh."

Aiden's eyes flash, his expression deadly serious. "Just tell me what you need."

"You can start by questioning your werewolf friends. Find out what Finn has done with Marcel and his vampires."

"Well, I would, but most of the wolves took off to the Bayou."

Klaus narrows his eyes. "Oh? Whatever for?"

"They're waiting for Caroline and Jackson to finish the wed- _ritual_ trials," he stammers, looking slightly panicked for a second.

Klaus takes a step closer, a tremor wrecking him from the inside out as he tries to control the worst of his anger. "And what trials might those be?" he asks in a deceptively calm voice.

"Basic old-school werewolf stuff. They go out into the woods and smoke this blue calamus root out of a peace pipe, I guess."

"Blue calamus... A rather specific plant. It's known for its unique properties as a truth serum. I remember it was quite the rage back in the old days, when the wolves used it for divulgement rituals where secrets were confessed. I don't suppose they mentioned such a thing?"

Aiden shrugs. "No. They just said they had some ceremonial stuff to do."

Klaus swallows back an angry roar, striving to keep his voice civil. The twist in his chest is so violent now he could tear Aiden apart if he doesn't watch himself. Not only is Caroline really going to marry Jackson Kenner, but she is ready to tell him the truth about their daughter. All the sacrifice, all the fight they put into keeping her hidden... And she's going to let it all out for her new sweetheart.

Now, Klaus is no stranger to betrayal... But this... This is quite special, indeed.

Caroline doesn't just want to break his heart. She wants to stomp all over it and bury it under the worst kind of darkness.

This is what he gets for giving himself so completely to someone. It's his own bloody fault for going against his every gut instinct, against everything he's ever believed on, everything he's always _known_. Love is a weakness. It has no merits, no benefits, it brings no joy. It's a farce, a mockery. A weapon. He's been betrayed like this once before, told himself never again, and yet here he is... And he went so much deeper this time. He trusted her with all his soul. Klaus would've given her the world if she'd asked for it. Would've ripped his heart out of his own chest and put it in a box for her, just so she'd know he would always be hers. What a pathetic fool. Serves him right.

It just goes to show how he cannot trust anyone but himself.

But if she thinks he'll allow her to jeopardize his daughter in the name of this preposterous treachery... She's about to be very surprised.

"And where, exactly, did Jackson take Caroline?" he asks Aiden.

He blinks at Klaus, doubtful, but also visibly intimidated. "Back country, deep Bayou. Why?"

His lips quirk into such a strained smile it almost hurts. "That will be all. Stay on point."

"That's it? Where are you going?"

"I am going to have a little chat with the bride-to-be, remind her that some secrets need to stay buried."

"Wait! I didn't say it was a wedding! Klaus! _It's not a wedding_!" Aiden yells after him as he storms out of Marcel's loft.

He is right. If it involves telling Jackson about Eve, there will be no wedding. He'll make sure of it if he has to murder the groom himself.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten some feedback that some people were mad at Caroline here. PLEASE, DON'T! She means well, folks. It's just the writer here who enjoys watching Rome burn a bit too much. :D Also, I'm sorry for making Aiden botch the ONE JOB he had. lol
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. S02E12 Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: adult content of all sorts ahead.

* * *

The summer after Bill Forbes walked out on his family, Caroline spent the whole month at the Gilberts' lake house. She got the invite from Miranda, but she knew that the idea must've come from her mother. Caroline was weepy and whiny and moody and the lake house getaway was Liz's way of maybe trying to get her daughter's mind off the whole thing. To make it more interesting, Miranda also invited Bonnie. 

Grayson was working, so he stayed back in Mystic Falls with Jeremy, who would rather spend time with his video games than have human interaction anyway, and would only drive over to the lake house on the weekends. Liz popped up a couple of time as well, but Caroline was salty all over and feeling guilty for driving her father away by being such a lousy, disinterested witch, so of course she projected all of her frustration onto her mom.

She was a disaster of a witch and a disaster of a daughter, but at one thing no one could ever beat her: skipping stones. While others’ would skip once, twice at most if they were lucky, hers would easily go for three or four skips, time and time again. She had a good eye for the right stone, with the right shape and size and weight, and she knew the  _ exact _ angle to hit the water to optimize the skipping. It felt great to be good at something, to see the other kids in awe of her mad skill, to be  _ unbeatable _ . During that summer at the Gilberts' lake house, Caroline got insanely good at skipping stones. She would practice for hours and hours, wishing that her father could see her so that he would know she wasn't a total disappointment, wishing that she could wield magic as well as she wielded stones.

Since those lake house days, Caroline has gotten great at a good many things, even magic, before she lost it. And even though she hasn't practiced skipping stones in years, it's ridiculous how easy it is now. She doesn't even have to concentrate, doesn't even have to find a particularly good stone, and the thing will go skipping ten, twenty times before it sinks. It breaks her little child heart, to be perfectly honest. There's no sense of accomplishment, none of that pride she held on to with everything she had after three meagre skips. This feels like cheating. Like the way she's cheating death by still walking around after getting her throat cut open from side to side. Everything about her is a lie.

How can Jackson expect her to take part in a divulgement ritual when the very fabric of who she is these days is a forgery?

Jackson and a reluctant Mary allowed her to sleep on her doubts over the ritual and see how she'd feel come morning. They offered her the guest room at Mary's cabin while Jackson took the couch, but Caroline didn't get a single second of shut eye. She tossed and turned in bed all night, hoping that the sounds of the woods outside would muffle down the screaming in her head, that panicked voice telling her to bolt. She managed to keep those impulses at bay, though, if anything then out of respect for Jackson. He put his pride and his pack on the line for her; he deserved better than a runaway not-bride.

As soon as dawn started to break, Caroline got dressed and stepped out. She needed to breathe some fresh air - and, well, find breakfast. With her nerves jangled as they were, she knew she would lose it if she didn't sink her teeth into something  _ soon _ .

A full stomach and the cool breeze by the river didn't offer Caroline the kind of fresh perspective she was hoping for, though. It did, however, bring a certainty: she cannot tell Jackson about Eve. Without discussing it with Klaus and taking all of the risks into account, she just... Can't. This is bigger than her. Bigger than everything.

She's standing by the river bed, throwing stones and trying her best to get them to skip no more than three times to no avail when Jackson comes to find her.

"You scared me," he says as he joins her. "I was worried you'd ran off in the middle of the night." He chuckles, but it's a nervous sound. Like he can read her mind and knows that she really almost did that.

"No, I was just out here, thinking," she answers somewhat dispassionately.

"Everything ok?" Jackson asks, looking away from her, to the river, perhaps already sensing that her discomfort means bad news.

"Jackson... I can't divulge you my greatest secrets. I'm sorry. I just can't."

"You really think there's a secret you have that is so bad you can't tell me?"

"It's not safe."

"When have we ever been safe, Caroline? Look around. The whole reason we're doing this in the first place is because it's not  _ safe _ , for anyone. My people have been cursed, hunted, exiled, but you and me - we can change all that. We can empower the whole pack. And the cost of that is full disclosure. Full trust. If we don't do that, the transfer power won't work and we're back to where we were."

The expression on Jackson's face is so open and so earnest Caroline can't even look at him, cutting her eyes to the side.

"Look..." he starts once more. "Even if we call the whole thing off... I'd still like to tell you my biggest secret."

"I'm sure you've lived quite the life, Jack, but I doubt your secret is anything like mine."

"There's one. Come with me and I'll show you."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Jackson leads her deeper still into the woods until they reach a small clearing that looks a lot like...

"Is this a graveyard?" she asks, taking in all the simple wooden signs marking the graves.

There aren't that many, about twenty or so, but they seem very rudimentary, like people didn't bother giving a decent burial to whoever was laid to rest here. It's far away from everything, in a secluded part of the Bayou, and there are no flowers or candles or anything else to indicate that these graves get visitors.

"This is where wolves bury those that walk away from the pack," Jackson explains. "Traitors, murderers... Like this one." He points to a grave with the initials RXD marked on the wooden sign above it. "Richard Xavier Dumas. He was Mary's husband. My grandfather. He was an alpha of his time, militant, radical, hell-bent on waging war with vampires. When he found out my betrothed’s parents and mine planned to merge packs, try for peace with Marcel and his crew, he went ballistic."

Caroline's eyes snap up at him in shock. "He killed your fiancé?"

Jackson nods lightly, his head hanging low. "And her parents. He wanted to stop them, everything they stood for, and he did. He made us weaker than ever, started an in-fight that ended with my own parents dead and half our pack cursed into wolf forms for decades. Andrea was the last of the Lebonair line, the line your daughter was a distant descendent from, Klaus’ line. My own grandfather finished them." Jackson goes quiet for a while, his mouth pressed into a tight line as he stares down at the grave. Even so many years later, it's clear this is something he's comfortable talking about. Caroline can see the sting of the tragedy on his face.

"I've only known about this for a little while. I was too young when it happened and grew up having no idea. Mary held on to that secret for over two decades. You're the first person I'm telling all this to. I'm sure some of the wolves know, but... Many weren't alive or old enough to remember, and most of our elders are gone. So I've kept quiet. I don't know what they'll think of me as their leader if they knew my grandfather is responsible for all of our suffering. Don't know what they'd think of Mary."

Caroline doesn't know what to say. She can see in Jackson's eyes how heavy a weight this is for him to carry. He's trapped between a rock and a hard place: come clean, and he risks having his authority challenged by some of the most resentful members of his pack; stay quiet, and the doubt will eat away at him forever, the fear of getting found out always hanging above his head like a guillotine ready to drop.

She gets why he's telling her that. It's a proof of trust. This kind of information could be used to poison Jackson's men against his, it's the key to undermining his authority, maybe even getting him overthrown and banished. By letting her know, he's showing her that he has complete faith that she won't do it. Just like she believes he would never do anything to harm Eve. But even his good intentions might be twisted against him, against all of them.

"Anyway, that was my secret," he speaks after a moment, lifting his gaze back to hers. "I'm an alpha trying to mend the mess my own grandfather made, twenty years ago. Whatever your secret is, if you don't want to tell me, then don't."

She blinks at him. "But... The ceremony -"

"I don't care. If you really think you can't, then you can't. I don't know if I'll ever have it in me to tell the rest of my pack about Richard Dumas. So I understand how you feel. But the ritual is not about truth, it's about trust. And even if you choose not to tell me anything, I'll still trust you. I want you to know that it doesn't change anything, Caroline. I won’t think less of you because of that."

"How sweet. Quite the romantic sentiment."

Caroline's gut goes cold as Klaus steps out of the woods and into the clearing with them, her entire body tensing up painfully.

He meets her gaze with an icy, hard shield in his eyes, his expression betraying absolutely nothing. "I wonder if I might impose on this lovely tableau long enough to have a word with Caroline."

Jackson glances at her, obviously suspicious of Klaus' sudden appearance. "It's ok, Jack," she says. "I'll meet you back Mary's."

Klaus' eyes, sharp as knives, never leave hers as they wait for Jackson to get out of earshot. "Look,” she starts slowly, scrambling for the right words. She doesn’t even know how he found her, but the fact he did cannot be good. “Before you go ballistic -"

"Have you lost your mind?" he seethes.

"I can explain everything if you just -"

"Are you honestly considering this preposterous truth-telling idiocy?"

"I -" Caroline stammers, a line of confusion appearing on her forehead. He's mad about the divulgement ritual? "Actually, I'm kind of on the fence on that, but -"

"Well, allow me to make this simple for you," he cuts her off harshly, staring her down as he takes a step forward. "Under no circumstances will you divulge any family secrets, especially none that would endanger our child," he barks, real heat underlying his words now.

Caroline is a little taken aback. Not by his reaction, because she anticipated a fight over this, but... It's a little unexpected that the divulgement ritual is what Klaus is mad about. Shouldn't he be upset to have found out about the ceremony from someone else? Judging by the hardness in his gaze, she has no idea whether to think this is a good thing or a really bad one.

She decides to go with the flow, though. They really need to discuss this. This is obviously not how she'd want to do it - they should be at home, with a glass of wine to wash down the worst of the anger, not in the middle of a clandestine cemetery for deviant werewolves. But if what he wants to argue about is the secret, then so be it.

"It's not that simple, Klaus," she says, keeping her voice level, trying not to rise to his bait. "You saw what Finn did, how he took all of us out of commission with a simple spell. He's growing more powerful by the day. Right now, he controls over half of the werewolves. This thing could change that."

"The outcome of your strategy is not worth the risk it imposes on our daughter.”

"It's not a risk if I trust Jackson." Klaus sneers, a shadow crossing his face as his expression morphs into one of pure rage. "Just think about it for one second. We could have a whole army of super wolves who could protect Eve as one of their own."

"Eve doesn't need a wolf army. I'll protect her myself, and an easy time I'll have of it, too, without you running off sharing secrets and getting married to motley werewolves."

Caroline stops, her eyes wide. "Wait - what? Who said anything about getting married? Who told you about this?"

"Everyone, Caroline.  _ Everyone _ knows about your not-so-secret wedding," he spits out, words dripping venom. "I was apparently the only one who wasn't informed. Were you planning on not inviting me to your lovely ceremony as well? Afraid I might raise my hand and offer an objection at the wrong time?"

"Whoever told you this was a wedding was wrong, Klaus. Jackson and I are not getting married, this is not -"

"You're absolute right. You're not. Because you're not going to finish these rites. I will not let you tell him anything that could compromise our daughter's safety."

Caroline folds her arms over her chest. "Is that what you're mad about? Someone tells you I'm marrying some other guy and  _ this _ is what you're upset about?" she asks with a snap, seriously crossed over his reaction now.

Klaus' eyes burn into hers, cold fury shining through with predatory focus. "You can do whatever you want, Caroline, even betray the trust I have mistakenly bestowed upon you. But let me emphasize this one more time: you will  _ not _ use our daughter as an excuse to marry that mongrel. In this matter, there is no one above my decree, not even you. You will tell Jackson the wedding is off."

Caroline gapes in shock before her face scrunches up as the heat of indignation finally hits her. She knows he's obviously under some kind of misconception here, but still righteous anger explodes like lava inside of her. Each sentence that rolled off his tongue drenched in acidic vitriol was a slap to her face. And it  _ stings _ , badly.

Like any level-headed creature who's ever tried to deal with Klaus in this history of ever, her instinct is to lash out at the sheer arrogance of his unilateral decision-making about their daughter, especially after she's been postponing this whole thing for over a day just because she refused to do anything without Klaus' consent.

She feels the fire of seven heels coursing through her as she snaps back at him, seething, "It's a good thing I don't take orders from anyone, not even you." Klaus opens his mouth ready to bark some more nonsense, but she puts a hand up and cuts him off, raising her tone. "I'm done listening to you. Let me know when you decide to stop acting like a jackass and have a real conversation."

"Caroline!" he roars as she tries to walk away, grabbing her arm and spinning her back towards him.

"I am not gonna stand here quietly while you make an idiot of yourself, insulting me and telling me what I can or cannot do to protect my daughter!" She yanks her arm free, boiling with rage. "I'm her  _ mother _ . You are  _ not _ above me. And your clearly have  _ no _ idea what I'm trying to do, got some half-story from someone out there and can't even bother to be  _ honest _ about why you're really throwing a fit! Have you learned  _ nothing _ ?!" Caroline huffs out, nostrils flaring. "This ceremony can help our daughter. She can come home, to us. The wolves will be on our side, and I will  _ not _ let your stupid blindness get in the way."

"The wolves cannot be trusted!"

"In your paranoid mind, nobody can be trusted! Not even me! Where does it end?!"

" _ There is no end! _ " Klaus snarls furiously. "Need I remind you I killed my own father in order to keep her safe?"

"Is that really why you killed him? Or is it that you're so terrified of letting someone,  _ anyone _ , in?!" Caroline feels the annoying prickle of tears behind her eyes, but she refuses to cry. Not over this. "I asked you to trust me."

"And then I turned my back and you got engaged to someone else."

"I did not - !" Caroline snaps her own mouth shut, tired of repeating herself. Klaus would rather stick to some absurd hear-say than listen to her. That's his own problem. She's got more important things to do than have a pointless fight with him. "You know what? If that's what it takes to protect my daughter... It's exactly what I'm going to do."

She whirls away from him, stomping off in anger. Klaus flashes over to her, planting himself on her path. "You leave me no choice." Before she can even realize what he's going to do, she feels his hands closing around her neck, that awful, dull sound of bones cracking, and then darkness pulls her in.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Marcel comes to with a dull throb on the back of his head. He blinks, slowly, forms dancing out of focus before him. The last thing he remembers is...

Waking up in his place in Algiers, with Gia. Against all odds, they managed to make their way through the hordes of Carillon Eve taking the streets of the French Quarters and make it safely across the river. Marcel didn't see everything because he passed out some time before they left the Quarter. He thought he was dying. Gia and Josh led them all back and carried him themselves. The further away they got from the compound, she said, the less hungry they felt, but the newbies were losing their minds.

That was so close... It could've been a tragedy. He could've ended up dead, if they'd taken just a tiny bit longer to feed him one of the vials of Klaus' blood he keeps stashed at his loft for emergencies. But his guys saved the day. He'd never been prouder of them, never been more certain that he made the right choice with Gia. This girl is going places. She might even be the queen of the Quarter vampires one day.

And then... Someone broke in. They heard sounds of fighting and screaming and when they went down to the first floor, where the guys were raiding his blood stash... That's when everything gets hazy again.

He tries to move, and feels a sharp wave of new pain traveling all over his body. He grinds his teeth together, grunting. The pain brings him sudden sharpness, though, and Marcel realizes he's tied to a chair, ropes wrapped tightly around his midsection and both his legs and wrists. The tiniest move from him and the ropes bite into his flesh like boiling water.

"You can't free yourself," Finn speaks, coming out of the shadows to stand before Marcel. "Those ropes have been soaked in vervain, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. The more you try, the more it'll hurt. But I did lessen the spell that made you hungry, affording us an opportunity for some civilized discourse." Finn pulls a chair out for himself, sitting right in front of Marcel. "Let's start with my brother's newest pet, Caroline Forbes. Recently, I had a chance to speak with Niklaus and realized his affections for her were perhaps deeper than I gave it credit for. When my mother was still in charge, Caroline was off limits because she intended to use her to bait my brothers into taking her deal, whichever one of them took it first. Now that mother is gone, however... I have no intention whatsoever to  _ rescue _ their souls from the depths of darkness, so Caroline Forbes could be used to reach my own personal goals. However..." He raises his voice, his eyes sparkling with madness, like he's just had an epiphany. "Caroline is no secret, is she? She might be a clue, though. I got the clear impression that there  _ is _ something Niklaus is desperate to protect, even more so than the vampire he's so besotted with, and I think that that secret is his greatest weakness. So. Tell me, Marcel. What is it?"

"You really don't know him, do you?" he sneers. "Do you really think he would trust me with anything that can be used against him?"

"You're Klaus' ally. In a thousand years, you're probably the closest he ever got to having a friend. I think you know something."

"You can think whatever you want as long as you don't mind knowing that you are a chump," Marcel spits at him. Almost the second the words are out, he knows it was the wrong thing to say. He can't help it, though. That bastard's smugness just makes him want to  _ punch _ him so hard until his nose is on the back of his head. The current circumstances, however, are all in the asshole’s favor.

Finn' face darkens as he rubs the tips of his fingers together and Marcel is hit by a wave of excruciating pain, his entire body suddenly put through a meat grinder.

He throws his head back, screaming, and the ropes tighten around him, making everything worse.

Almost as soon as it starts, however, it stops, and he sags limply in his seat, trying to catch his breath. He can see how this is going to be one very long day.

Finn leans forward on his chair, gritting out at him, "Tell me what you know."

Marcel draws the air in slowly, lifting his head to meet the other man's gaze levelly. "I'll tell you what I remember. Two centuries back, I was just a kid looking through the compound. I found a coffin. Klaus catches me, and he says, 'That's my brother Finn. We keep him like that because he's such a bore'."

Finn's lips twist angrily and then he's rubbing his fingers together again.

If he's going to be tortured for a secret he doesn't even know, he might as well annoy the hell out of that motherfucker.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

What a precious lad, Jackson Kenner... Washing the dishes for his Nanna while she sharpens a wooden stake. Klaus has to smile; that old rag has got more of a backbone than her grandson. Caroline should perhaps look into espousing her, not him.

It would be so very sad if Klaus was to snap her spine in two like the brittle twig that she is.

"What is that for, Mary?" Jackson asks her.

"For Klaus, in case he comes back."

"Speak the devil's name, etc., etc." Klaus appears at the door, watching with satisfaction as both grandmother and grandson visibly tense.

"Stay out, vampire!" Mary grits out, pointing that stake of hers at him.

"I'm a hybrid, dear," he says, with a mock-hurt expression. "Half wolf. You and I could be distant relatives, for all you know. In fact... It seems I have a lot in common with your grandson." His eyes cut to Jackson, sharp and menacing. "I wonder if Jackson can come out to play."

"It's ok, Mary," he says, putting his grandmother's arm down and stepping in front of her. "Where's Caroline?"

"Resting," he says nonchalantly. "She was exhausted after your grueling day of wedding preparations, poor thing."

"Wedding? Is that what you think we're doing here?"

"What I think is that it's about time you and I have a little  _ chat _ ."

Jackson hesitates. "I want your word that this is between you and me."

"Why, of course." He puts a hand on top of his heart, stepping aside so Jackson can walk out of the house. "You have my word as a gentleman."

He glances back at his grandmother. To her credit, Mary doesn't seem even remotely as terrified as Klaus imagined she would be. The woman really does have some balls. Under different circumstances, he might be amused. Right now, however, all he wants is to tear Jackson's lovesick eyes from its sockets and feed it to her.

As soon as Jackson is standing before him, the smile on Klaus' face turns predatory. "Brave lad."

He wraps his arms around Jackson none too gently and drags him into the woods, further away from the cabin. They should have this conversation in private, without any interruptions. When he deems they've gone far enough, he throws Jackson on the ground. He rolls around a few times, grunting, until he finally manages to pull himself up.

"Klaus! You wanna fight me?! Come on!" he snarls, teeth bared like a little puppy trying to look feral. How adorable.

"You mistake my intentions," he says mildly, hands in his coat pockets. Jackson whips around to him, anger burning behind his eyes, and yet somehow Klaus can already tell it'll never be enough for the Crescents' alpha to have even a slight chance in this fight. Not that he ever would. But with the rage Klaus has boiling through his veins like poison... Jackson won't last a minute. "I haven't come here to fight you, not at all. This is to be an execution." Jackson's eyes widen for a brief second before his face sets to determination once more, mouth pressed into such a fine line his lips disappear.

Klaus opens his arms. "Let's face it, I should've done this a long time ago. I believed you would eventually serve a purpose. Clearly, I was wrong. I've been wrong about a good many people lately, and I do not fancy that at all. Your downsides far outweigh any benefits of keeping you around. As a courtesy to Caroline, I will ask you this: how, exactly, would you prefer to die?"

Jackson, bless his golden boy heart, might actually think he has a chance, because he launches at Klaus, trying to tackle him. Either that, or he wants to die a painful and slow death. Well, nobody can say he didn't offer to be merciful. Personally, he prefers it this way, too.

Klaus barely has to think before dodging his clumsy moves. And yet Jackson keeps on coming. Each time he does, Klaus waltzes out of his path and punches him into the ground. He grunts, he bleeds, he rolls over and picks himself up, ready to try again. He does it once, two times, three. By the fourth, he's pretty certain the wolf's got at least a few severely cracked ribs, maybe even some internal lacerations. There's an ugly bruise covering the side of his face. And still he keeps on coming, each time a little more unsteady, a little more limited by the injuries, but he just won't give up. Klaus hasn't even broken a sweat yet.

"Most of my victims start screaming about now," he says conversationally as he dodges yet another failed attempt at a punch and hits Jackson across the jaw, sending him down on his knees. "I'd prefer if you spared me the tedium of any last words, but if you are so inclined, now would be the time."

Jackson spits blood on the ground and then looks up at him, one of his eyes starting to swell closed. "Go to hell, you bastard!"

"Bastard! Yes. That is exactly what I am, made so by your precious mentor, Ansel. I'm curious. Did he teach you to regard me with such loathing, or is that bias all of your own?"

Jackson's face scrunches up into an even more daunting grimace than the one he's naturally sporting, his whole body quaking. For a second Klaus thinks he's crying, but then he realizes he's actually... Laughing. Must have hit his head one too many times. With a hand across his abdomen and a pained groan, Jackson stands to his feet, wobbling a little.

“Is that what this is about? You're jealous I got to spend time with your daddy? Or are you mad that he's the one who told me about the ritual?"

The rage flares up anew as jealousy and chagrin spreads to permeate every inch of him. So  _ Ansel _ told Jackson about this wedding ritual.  _ I want to protect the things you love, I'm your father _ , and then, behind his back, pushes his favorite pupil towards marrying Caroline, knowing all the while exactly who she was and what she meant. Liar... Just like the rest of them.

Well, suddenly Klaus doesn't feel so bad about having killed him after all.

"You were his most prized pupil, the benefactor to all of his wisdom." Klaus flashes forward to Jackson, punching him in the stomach. The man doubles over, blood oozing from his mouth. "Look all the good that's done you."

He pushes Jackson down once more. He gasps harshly for air, but almost immediately he's scrambling to get back on his feet. He just. won't. stop.

"Well, you..." he speaks through grit teeth, heaving. Each time his chest rises, a scratchy noise comes out of his throat and he winces just a tiny bit, but he refuses to back down, his unflinching stare glinting with anger. Klaus has to admit... He's not exactly impressed, but... Somewhat taken aback by Jackson's resilience. "You could've learned from him... Yourself... If you... Hadn't killed him."

Klaus kicks him on the knee and, when he drops, kicks his side, sending him rolling over on the ground.

"I see you've mastered the self-righteous air of all hypocrites. The truth is, you're worse than me, using Caroline's best intentions for your own self-serving power grab."

"You're wrong!"

"You want her power so you can wage wars and win territories. After all, that's what wolves do. You’re barbarians, with your primitive traditions. Or are you so in love with her you'd take advantage of her despair and her kind disposition to tie her to yourself? That's even more pitiful." He approaches the other man, looking down at him. "She does not love you, Jackson," he speaks slowly, voice drenched in bitterness. "And she never will."

Jackson tries another attack, but Klaus is punching him down before he even gets a chance to properly get up. "You don't know a damn thing about me or about being a wolf!" he man snarls, blood dripping from his mouth.

"No. I don't. I never had the luxury to live among my kind nor the chance to truly know my father, but you knew him. Perhaps he saw in you the son he always wanted. I'm glad I was spared of such a sorry fate.”

Klaus wraps his hand around Jackson's throat and lifts him off the ground, slamming him hard against a tree trunk. This time, when he slides to the floor, he stays there, whining painfully.

He's had enough of this. Time to end this foolishness once and for all.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Marcel has completely lost track of time. Has it been a day? An hour? Two? It feels like decades. Even after the torture stops, his whole body still aches, the pain lingers, burning under his skin. His head lolls, heavy, chin to his chest. He can't even keep it up. The vervain on the ropes is but a distant noise, he can barely feel it at this point, can barely remember his own name. He doesn't know how Finn expects to get anything out of him like this.

The man puts a hand under his chin, forces him to look at him. All Marcel sees is a blurry figure shrouded in darkness.

"I'm convinced. You know nothing." He drops Marcel's head again. "Which means that whatever Klaus is keeping secret is so secret he won't even share it with you. Perhaps I should change my target, after all."

"No..." Marcel mumbles, clenching his jaw for strength to lift his face. "Leave Caroline alone. Haven't you done enough to her?"

"Me? No. I'm afraid mother did. Not that I feel sorry for someone who is so blind that she'd get to the point of carrying my brother's offspring. No morals or principles whatsoever, that one."

"She has more principles than you could ever hope to have," Marcel grits out, his voice coming out scratchy and dry. "Maybe that's what makes you and your mother so mad. To know that a vampire is a much better person than all of you. So good indeed that she earned the admiration of both Klaus  _ and _ Elijah, something neither of you ever had."

Finn sneers. "I don't want to be admired by the likes of my brothers. But you are right in at least one aspect... What happened to her was so very sad. Losing a child the way she did, and then losing her life... She was a witch, and then she was turned into a monster. I know what that feels like." He approaches Marcel again, pulling his head back. "I wonder if there are other ways you can be of use to me..."

The front door creaks open and Kol walks in, a crooked smile on his face. Marcel gets that stab of anger inside of him again - he  _ knew _ that little son of a bitch was not to be trusted. But by the look on Vincent's face, he was not expecting his little brother to show up either.

"What are you doing here, Kol?" Finn demands.

"I heard a rumor that you'd taken Marcel prisoner," he says, bobbing his head towards Marcel. "And it just so happens that I owe him one."

Kol takes a knife out of his jacket and drives it through Marcel's hand, pinning it to the chair.

Marcel screams in pain, grinding his teeth so strongly they almost crack. "I'm going to kill you!" he yells. "I'm going to kill both of you!"

Finn waves a hand in front of his face, and then Marcel sees nothing more.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I've dragged this out for long enough. But you can hardly blame me, can you?" Klaus says while Jackson struggles to stand up again, struggling with broken ribs and maybe even a punctured lung. He has stamina, at least. Back when Klaus was still mass-producing hybrids, a specimen like Jackson would've been  _ perfect _ . He should've come to Louisiana to recruit. "I find the sheer audacity of your plot quite offensive. Caroline is a part of my family now, and you would seek to use her for you petty ambitions."

"I'm not using her!" Jackson growls.

"Just admit your true intentions for this farce of a wedding and I will grant you the mercy of a quick death."

" _ It's not a wedding _ !" Jackson tries to stand, but his knees give in, and so he stays down, eyes - well, one eye, the other is swollen shut - feral. "When I told Caroline about the ritual..." he stops, drawing a ragged breath in after every few words. "I didn't expect her to want to go through with it. And she didn't. Not until she figured out a way to hijack the ceremony so that we could... Have the union... Without the wedding. Your brother... Kol... He's the one who told her it was possible. Only once she was convinced, she sought me out and asked if I'd be willing to do it... To go against the traditions of my people... To break our sacred rules... In order to protect the pack." He huffs out a laugh that sounds a lot more like a sob. "I would've married her in a blink. She's... A good person... With a good heart... She fights for what she believes in, for the people she loves... And she is  _ loyal _ . You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Klaus is momentarily stricken, that fiery anger inside of him suddenly doused. "All your followers are calling it a wedding," Klaus counters with a grumble.

"Because Aiden is a dumb fuck!" A huffing sound escapes Jackson's throat, more a sob than a laugh. "We asked him to spread the word... Do you know how many times Caroline emphasized that he could  _ not _ ... call it a wedding? And do you know why? Why she didn't want to marry me? Why she wouldn't do it unless there were no marriage vows, no marriage promises and no... Marriage ceremony? Because of  _ you _ , you son of a bitch.  _ You _ ! She was thinking of  _ you _ . And where is she now? What have you done to her? Did you even listen to what she surely tried to tell you?"

If what Jackson is saying is indeed true... If they were never going to get married... Then Klaus just got himself into a whole lot of trouble. Not that he'd be fine with this either way. The mere fact Caroline came upon this idea and didn't feel like sharing it with him when apparently all of New Orleans had already gotten an invitation tells him there was something off with it from the beginning. From his exile Elijah had gotten wind of this, and he was also under the impression that it was a wedding ceremony. Moreover, she was going to tell Jackson about Eve. That, in itself, is a betrayal. She could never do that behind his back. She couldn't have done  _ any _ of this without telling him, wedding or no wedding.

And yet... If Jackson is not lying to try and save his own skin...

Caroline's wrath will be of biblical proportions.

"For the life of me..." the wolf starts talking again. "I can't understand... How someone like her would have feelings... For someone... As putrid... As you. You don't deserve her."

He may have been misinformed about the wedding situation, but that is not to say his desire to put an end to Jackson Kenner was ever misguided. He never liked the man. From the day he appeared, he's been a thorn in Klaus’s side. Now that he's started, he might as well finish it.

Klaus grabs a branch and snaps it in two, keeping the sharper end as a stake. He grabs a fistful of Jackson's hair and pulls his head back, exposing his neck, angling the stake right at his throat. Despite the obvious agonizing pain he must be in, Jackson's eyes never waver. They burn like flames; fierce and completely unafraid. It's not every day Klaus finds someone so brave in the face of death.

"You told me once that my people were yours, too," Jackson speaks. "If you kill me now... Promise me... That you will help Caroline set our people free.  _ Promise me _ !"

Klaus hesitates, the stake dropping for a bit. This is... Not what he was expecting by means of final words. Instead of cursing him to hell, he wants to make sure that his pack will be taken care of. It's infuriatingly noble of him.

His moment of distraction turns out to be his undoing. Caroline flashes out of the woods like a missile, tackling him to the ground. She wrenches the tree branch off his hand and throws it away, climbing on top of him when he tries to stand up. With a loud, angry growl, she starts punching Klaus' face, over and over, with all her might, barely giving him a second to react. She truly is stronger than he gave her credit for, because those punches bloody hurt.

Klaus grabs her wrists and shoves her off of him. Caroline rolls once on the ground and, in a second, is already up on her feet, standing between him and Jackson with bared teeth and murder in her gaze.

The look in her eyes is wild. Dark. Hard.  _ Hurt _ . He doesn't think he's ever seen her this angry before. Shame rears inside of him, but he keeps his expression firmly unaffected.

"You're not going to touch another hair on his head," Caroline growls, her voice low and dangerous. "If you want to kill him, you're gonna have to go through me first."

If Klaus says it does not make his heart lurch painfully to see her being this protective of someone else - someone who would like to  _ marry _ her - he'll be lying.

"You truly believe he is worthy of your trust?"

"Yes," she replies, not missing a beat.

Klaus shakes his head. "You are stubborn. And so is he. Perhaps you were meant for each other, after all," he says. Caroline's eyes narrow at the venom in his voice.

His regard for Jackson Kenner hasn't grown in the slightest. Klaus would still very much prefer to get rid of him. But, after beating him within an inch of his life, he can at least respect the man's resolve. Whatever he might be - and he is a good many terrible things - he is loyal. And it seems like Caroline is someone he's decided to bestow his loyalty upon. Klaus still hates the way he looks at her, the way he talks of her, the way he's always so conveniently  _ right there _ whenever she needs him to be, offering her shelter or a magical binding ritual to solve all her problems. But he can at least believe his word. Only someone desperately devoted to his people would ask the man about to take his life to care for his pack. And to that, at least, Klaus can somewhat relate. There aren't that many people out there he would sacrifice for, but one of them is the woman standing before him, glaring at him as though trying to set him on fire with her eyes.

"Go on, then," Klaus tells her. "Tell him. Have your  _ ceremony _ . Save your wolves. But mark my words." He cuts his eyes to Jackson, still kneeling behind her. "If you ever betray her, I will find you and I will deposit your head on the end of a spike and leave it on your grandmother's garden."

Klaus spares Caroline a final look, registering all the acrimony and the rancor carved onto her face, before he whooshes away into the woods.

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"Niklaus knows you trapped Rebekah, and yet he hasn't tracked you down to torture her location out of you?" Finn asks, his eyes narrowed like he's trying to solve a particularly hard equation in his head.

"Well, I'm smart enough not to be found," Kol offers. Finn laughs at him.

Truth is, Kol hasn't a single idea what he's supposed to be doing here. Winning his brother's trust back, probably. But he hasn't got anything to offer but his infectious charisma, and that kind of thing has never scored very high with Finn.

He didn't even want to come here in the first place. Kol has got more important things to do, like take care of keeping his own ass safe from Nik and Elijah, rather than finding new ways to risk it by testing Finn's patience. But what won't he do for Davina when she comes pleading with those puppy eyes of hers? Bloody hell... What was he thinking, getting involved with that girl? Her super hero streak is way too strong, and Kol can't just bloody well let her get herself killed trying to face his wretched brother on her own, now, can he?

Now here he is, keeping Finn distracted while she went in through the back door with Aiden, trying to rescue Josh. Marcel is gonna be a whole different matter... Finn has plans for him. He's being kept separately and under close inspection. Davina should say her goodbyes and prepare a nice black dress to wear on his funeral. Kol is  _ definitely _ not putting his ass on the line for Klaus' favorite little pet, that's for sure.

"And Elijah also knows Rebekah is missing," Finn continues, going back to his crazy calculations. "And yet he remains unaccounted for. Despite my power, I've been unable to locate him, which suggests he's gone to great lengths not to be found, and Elijah hides from no one... Unless he's keeping something hidden."

"Wow, Finn. You sound like Sherlock Holmes after one too many tequilas."

"And you act a fool to dare think that I wouldn't know about your little friends in the back," he snaps. Finn waves his hand in the air and Kol is pushed down on his knees. The bastard is channeling their parents, which makes him nearly untouchable. His magic is way too strong to be resisted. He doesn't even need enchantments anymore; just a flick of his wrist and voilà. "Allow me to send a message to your little girlfriend." He waves his hand again with a malicious smirk on his lips.

"What did you do?!" Kol demands.

"Oh. Nothing much. The vampires in the storage were all sleeping... And I've pulled them out of their slumber, increased their hunger a little bit. Now... Are you quite done with this ruse, brother?"

Kol stands to his feet, his heart beating manically in his chest. He needs to get to Davina. She's not gonna be able to fight all those vampires on her own, even with Aiden. Bracing himself for courage, Kol casts a quick spell under his breath and sends a shelf tumbling over Finn. It's not going to cause him any damage, but it's enough distraction for Kol to run. He goes straight to the back door leading into the storage, but when he pushes the door open, the vampires are all facing him, their fangs out. Davina and Aiden are nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, all the vampires drop down asleep again, and when he turns, Finn is there, blocking the door. "Seems your little friend Davina has absconded with one of my prisoners."

"Finn..." he starts, taking a step back and putting his palms out in surrender. "I didn't come here for a fight, brother. The little witch, she asked me to distract you. She can be quite pushy when she wants to be, you know?"

"Don't you see, Kol? We were given a gift. Rebirth unfettered by vampirism," he prowls towards Kol. "We were cleansed, and all that was asked was pittance in return, and you could not even give that. You're no better than Niklaus or Elijah."

"Finn, you're angry, and when you're angry, you don't think straight. We can talk this through, ok? Just give me a chance -"

"You don't deserve another chance, Kol!" he slams. "So I'm going to give you one thing I know you fear most... Death."

"No, Finn... Please, no, don't. No!"

Finn puts both his hands on Kol's head and starts chanting. There's an insane pressure inside his skull, like it's going to explode. Kol screams, mashing his eyes shut against the dizziness and the throbbing ache.

When Finn stops chanting, he draws in close, locking his eyes on Kol's. "I curse you to this body, unable to jump to another. Over the next few days, I want you to contemplate what's to come. A meaningless, lonely death and the darkness to follow. Clock starts now. Be sure to say your goodbyes. Go, brother. I will not miss you."

Kol doesn't know why hearing that from Finn hurts, but it does. His own brother, cursing him to death.

He's nothing. He's always been nothing to his family.

Kol stands to his feet, still feeling a little wobbly, but when he tries to walk out, Finn, simply steps aside, allowing him to pass.

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It's hard to tell what Caroline wants to do most: crawl under her bed and stay there until she dies or kill Klaus. Maybe both, not exactly in that order.

As she carried Jackson back to Mary's cabin, she kept mumbling  _ I'm sorry _ after  _ I'm sorry _ after  _ I'm so sorry _ , until her words were so mangled they barely sounded coherent anymore. She didn't know what else to say. Nothing she could ever say would be enough to excuse or justify his swollen eye or his bruised ribs or the fact he almost died at the hands of the psychopath for whom Caroline made Jackson break all of his people's traditions.

She kept saying  _ I'm sorry _ as she let Mary take him inside to see to his wounds. As she stepped back outside. As she ran away from the cabin until she realized she had no idea what to do. Then she stopped, sat down with her back against a tree and cried the angrier tears she's ever cried in her life.

Caroline wants to dig up a hole and bury herself in these woods until everything goes away - the purple on Jackson's face, Klaus, his stupid family - but she knows that will solve nothing. Doesn't matter how much time she spends hidden away in the Bayou, the world is still gonna be catching fire out there. People are still gonna be trying to find her daughter. If everything else fails, Caroline has to, at the very least, go back to Eve.

She's not sure how much time has passed by the time she finally makes her way back to Mary's cabin. She doesn't want to face Jackson, not really, doesn't think she has the guts to do it, but she owes him more than an  _ I'm sorry _ . Even if he never wants to see her face again, which she can totally understand, he deserves to hear the whole story.

Caroline stands at a distance, watching as Mary cares for her grandson's injuries as they both sit on the little porch outside, facing the river. The swelling has gone down considerably, and Jackson seems to be sitting straighter as well. He's a werewolf, he'll heal, but not fast enough. If she was still a witch, she could at least take away his pain. Then again, if she was still a witch, they wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. Every day gives Caroline a new reason to miss her powers a little bit more. She's useless as a baby vampire. Useless to protect her daughter. To protect her friends. To keep Klaus from acting like a complete lunatic. Just useless.

Mary stands up, leaving Jackson to his own thoughts, and then she spots Caroline, half-hidden behind a tree like the coward that she is. The look in Mary's eyes is  _ piercing _ , hard as a rock. Caroline dips her head, her stomach curling in on itself. With slow, tentative steps, she approaches the Kenner-Dumas matriarch, the apology ready at the tip of her tongue.

"Mary, I'm so sor -"

"For what?" the older woman cuts her off, harshly, but not with anger, not accusing. "Knowing a monster? Having baggage? We all got that. Some worse than others." Caroline's face falls when she puts a soothing hand on her shoulders, an impossible understanding passing between them. She's suddenly reminded of the story Jackson told her, about how his grandfather killed his fiancé, all her family and caused the downfall of the entire pack. Mary  _ knows _ . She understands. "When Jackson was down, you fought for him," she speaks with a gratefulness Caroline doesn't think she deserves, and then walks back into her house.

When she turns back to Jackson, he's staring right at her. Caroline fights the urge to look away, takes a deep breath and strides over to him, lower lip worried between her teeth.

"You ok?" she asks quietly.

"I'll live."

"I know what you're going to answer, but... Don't you want to take my blood?" Jackson merely fixes her with a look. "I had to ask."

She sits down beside him, a careful distance between the two of them, her feet dangling off the edge of the porch. It's starting to grow dark, the sun almost set in the horizon, and the chilly breeze is the only thing filling the uncomfortable silence for a while. Caroline almost wishes Jackson would yell at her, that his eyes would burn on her with the rage he's entitled to feel, that he would tell her to leave and never come back. Instead, he is... Calm. As warm and open as he's always been.

"I understand if you don't want to go through with the ceremony anymore."

"Why would I do that?"

She looks up at him, blinks. "Are you serious?"

"I didn't just get a concussion to give up," he says softly, with a smile.

Caroline shakes her head. "How can you be smiling right now?"

Jackson shrugs. "I don't know. I have a concussion."

"I should take you to the hospital."

"I'm a lot tougher than I look, Caroline. I'll be as good as new by morning. I was half expecting Klaus to have some kind of disproportional reaction. At least we got that out of the way. But... I can't figure out why he didn't kill me."

"Klaus is afraid of trusting other people. I think he must have realized that not trusting you would be worse. He'd end up with nothing but enemies. Alone. I've got half the mind to kill him myself after what he did."

She doesn't really know why Klaus didn't kill Jackson either; he had all the time in the world to do it. Instead he stalled, toyed around with him for no reason and hesitated when he had Jackson on his knees, completely beaten. What Caroline does know, however, is that if Klaus had done that, if he'd murdered Jackson out of some petty jealousy he couldn't even admit to, that would be the last time he ever saw her or Eve. Klaus is many things, but he's not an idiot; he must've known that too.

"He thought we were getting married," Jackson says. Caroline faces away from him, guilt clawing at her insides. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"I don't know. I was afraid of how he'd react, kept telling myself I should have everything figured out before I presented the case to him. But things moved faster than I anticipated, before I knew it..." Caroline sighs wearily. "Klaus is exhausting."

"You know he doesn't deserve you, right?"

"I'm not gonna try to justify him, or myself. After what he did... There is no excuse. But..." Caroline pauses, swallowing thickly. She shifts a little so that she's facing Jackson, and when she meets his eyes, she tries to make herself as open as she possibly can. There's a knot of apprehension at the pit of her stomach, a tiny fear of doing what she's about to do. But Jackson deserves to know the truth. He's earned the right to know exactly what he's getting himself into. "Klaus wasn't just angry about me. He was angry because of the secret that I didn't want to tell you... But that I'm going to, now." He shifts towards her as well, paying rapt attention. "Jackson... I want to tell you a story. About a beautiful little girl... And the parents who swore they would die to protect her."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Marcel blinks lazily awake for what it's like the millionth time. His throat feels coated in cotton as he tries to swallow the thick saliva in his mouth. He's hungry, weak and aching all over. Still tied to the chair with the vervained ropes, but the knife Kol had stabbed through his hand is gone, his wound already closed.

"Good, you're awake," Finn says with a level of excitement he can't even process in his current condition. "I've just one more question for you."

"Ok," he breathes out, his voice no more than a rasp. "Let my guys go free and I'll tell whatever it is you want to know."

A wolfish grin creeps onto Finn's lips, his eyes glinting with malice. "How selfless... But we've already established that you don't know anything of consequence. However, while you slept, I've been thinking." He taps his chin with his fingers, narrowing his eyes as his considers Marcel. "It's a common belief among the werewolves that you were the last person to see Niklaus' child alive. You were in possession of the baby's corpse. And it's funny, but I've heard absolutely everything about that awful tragedy, except for one kind of major detail. So, tell me, Marcel, how exactly did the baby die?"

Marcel opens his mouth, the answer at the tip of his tongue, but nothing comes out. He has this consolidated fact in his mind -  _ Klaus' baby died; I was the last person to see her _ \- but when he tries to recall the moment... He comes up empty. The memory dissolves like a sand castle in the wind, blurred into forgetfulness, a frame missing from the sequence of events.

Finn's smile grows triumphant and cruel. "You don't remember, do you? You don't remember because you were compelled to forget. Why would Niklaus compel away the truth from the vampire he thinks of as his adopted son? What... Besides a desire to protect his daughter?"

Marcel stares at Finn, a cold settling between his shoulder blades as something clicks in his memory. He can't remember it, not exactly... But all of a sudden, he's  _ certain _ he's seen the baby alive. That he held her in his arms. He knows her eyes were blue, that she looked like her father. But he can't, for the life of him, figure out where or when or how. He just... knows.

There's only one reason Klaus and Caroline would stay in New Orleans without their daughter, go through all that trouble to fake her death, even compelling Marcel to forget about it: if they thought they had absolutely no other choice. The little girl must've been in danger then. And by the covetous look in Finn's eyes, things are about to get a whole lot worse.

"She's alive," Finn says, his voice thrumming with elation. "And now you and your vampires are gonna help me find her."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus is still riding out the high of his anger when dawn breaks. He demolished an entire bottle of bourbon overnight and it has barely dulled the edges of his temper. The fact Caroline decided to spend the night away from home isn't unexpected, but it only adds to his mounting list of grievances.

He is dreadfully reminded of why he spent such a long time loathing the prospect of ever developing foolish human feelings for another being. Why the people that have passed through his bed over the centuries have been nothing more than fleeting indulgences - too many and too insignificant to leave a dent in his unflappable armor. Life was infinitely easier before. At times, so quiet he could hear the rattling of his own solitude inside of him. But Klaus Mikaelson was afraid of nothing. He thrived amid chaos and destruction. Never wavered. Never hesitated. Anyone who dared to cross him was mercilessly crushed; anyone who would stand in his way got trampled over. Klaus was feared. Revered. A legend.

And then in had to come Caroline Forbes, with her smile like sunbeam, and her hair the color of wheat, and those eyes that are the exact shade of the cerulean blue he strived so hard to achieve with his paints and never quite did, the color of the infinite sky in Klaus' dreams. Caroline with the laughter that lights him up like firework. Caroline who dominates his every thought, his every breath and every heartbeat. Who held the pendulum of his insanity in her hands and became his place of calm, a beacon of peace in the never-ending turmoil of his soul.

Caroline, who gave him something to lose, therefore showing Klaus to a whole new depth of pain and fear like he'd never known before. A thousand years hiding under the shroud of eternity, using it as a shield against all manner of mundane afflictions, for a small-town beauty queen to make a face at him and cause the earth to buck under his feet.

Klaus suddenly missed the point of his own existence, only to find it hadn't been lost, but merely misplaced. It is now in her, the only thing that insists on eluding his control. There's irony in there somewhere, he's certain of it. Not that he finds it amusing, especially not in the mood he is in.

Guilt trickles in just at the edge of his conscience, but Klaus throws it away almost as quickly as it comes. He feels no remorse over Jackson. His jumping to conclusions wasn't brash as it was only natural. Every single person he spoke to mentioned the word  _ wedding _ or  _ ceremony _ . What was he supposed to think? Caroline goes about town giving out RSVPs and deliberately forgets to mention to the person she had been sharing a bed with that she was about to bind herself to another man for life in a sacred, ancient ritual. One that, incidentally, was passed on to Jackson by his briefly resurrected father. And then he finds the two of them in the middle of what sounded an awful lot like a nauseating, saccharine love declaration, with Caroline just on the verge of revealing the truth of their daughter to that scoundrel -  _ without ever telling him a thing _ .

And somehow,  _ he _ is the bad guy.

It doesn't matter that they were never going to tie the knots. That's all beside the point. What hit Klaus first, at full force, was that they were engaged to be married and he was apparently the only person left out of the loop. And once the thought registered, it latched, rooting itself in the depths of Klaus' subconscious, taking over every fiber of his being like a disease.

Jackson got exactly what he deserved. That beating was long overdue, if you ask him. Getting his nose where he is not needed. Meddling in Mikaelson business. Making those pathetic puppy eyes at Caroline. He is a nuisance, and one that is apparently obsessed with Klaus. He wants his girl. His father. And now he'll certainly want his daughter as well. Klaus is only sorry that the wanker's werewolf gene won't allow him to be in agonizing pain for long.

The sun is barely out when Caroline finally decides to grace him with her presence. Her angry stomps reach him almost as soon as she enters the compound. Klaus' fingers tighten around his glass, his lips twitching distastefully. He doesn't look forward to living through what are likely to be excruciatingly long minutes of a hideous conversation - although  _ conversation _ might be a generous stretch; a brawl might be more appropriate - but he knows the pain needs to happen or else it won't ever go away.

Caroline storms into the room, blocking his view of the window as she plants herself right in front of him. She folds her arms across her chest, her eyes like flaming embers drilling holes into his.

A spike of rage rekindles inside of Klaus with a will, but he calmly sips from his drink, keeping as straight a face as his dark mood will allow. "Back so soon?" he asks conversationally. "I thought your prenuptial games would take longer." Caroline doesn't say anything, but her silence is positively hostile. Klaus' poise wavers under that unnerving gaze, annoyance seeping into his voice as he barks, "What?"

"I'm waiting," Caroline replies, white hot anger blazing underneath.

"Whatever for?"

"For you to get your head out of your ass and  _ grovel _ , if you've any interest in one day,  _ maybe _ , being granted a pardon."

Klaus laughs, a grinding, mirthless sound. His first instinct is to go for the bite, use his harshest words and draw blood. Hurt as much as he's been hurt. But even in his state of disgruntlement, he knows that is a destructive path of no return. Confrontation and aggression come as naturally as breathing to Klaus, which is why he constantly needs to curb his knee-jerk reactions, at least where Caroline is concerned.

He's learning his way through the murky waters of what he reckons falls into the category of a  _ romantic relationship _ much like a blind man, fumbling in the dark. Instead of allowing the rather rich chain of words clawing its way up his throat to shoot out like daggers, Klaus swallows it down and opts for the righteous attitude - which, in a rare turn of events, he feels he's genuinely entitled to boast.

"You would like an apology?" he knocks back the rest of his drink tastelessly before standing to his feet, meeting her eyes head on. "Here's my heartfelt apology. I am  _ so _ terribly sorry, Caroline, that I was the last person to be informed of your plans to wed Jackson Kenner in a traditional, ancient unification ceremony. I am sorry I didn't kill him sooner. And coming to think of it - I am also sorry I didn't leave those werewolves to become food to Marcel's vampires. I should've drained them all myself. How about that?" He punctuates his rant with a bitter grin that does not meet the venom in his eyes.

Annoyance tugs hard at her lips. "Call it a wedding one more time and I will make it one," she mumbles darkly.

"How else am I supposed to call it, when that's what everyone else is saying? The Bayou folk, Kol -"

"Kol? He's the one who told you, wasn't he?" She curses hotly under her breath. "I should've  _ known _ he would do that. He knew  _ exactly _ what I was planning and he promised to help me. All he asked in return was to trick you into thinking I was getting married because he wanted to see  _ the look _ on your face. I told him no, of course, but I knew better than to trust that asshole." Caroline shakes her head, biting on her lower lip. And then she seems to catch herself, steeling her gaze once more. "But that does not excuse what you did. Beating Jackson to a pulp? Threatening to kill him?  _ Snapping my neck _ ?" she asks, voice escalating into a shout.

"I did what I had to do. You were acting foolishly."

"Oh, so  _ I _ was the fool? I figured out a way to free the werewolves from your brother's control, get them united under Jackson to protect  _ our _ daughter, which you had been trying - and  _ failing _ \- to do since you set foot in this town, by desecrating the hell out of an ancient matrimonial ceremony so I  _ wouldn't _ have to marry him, and  _ I'm _ the fool? You made a mess last year because you  _ thought _ you saw Elijah and I kissing. Remember that? I asked you to trust me -"

"Like you trusted me?" he snaps, voice ringing loudly with fury. "Tell me, Caroline. What would you have me do, when Kol tells me something that everyone else corroborates?"

"Not kill an innocent person, for starters!"

Klaus sneers. "Please. That man is hardly  _ innocent _ ."

"You should've come to  _ me _ ," she gesticulates frantically. "You should've asked  _ me _ ."

"That is grand, sweetheart, to demand blind faith from me when you never showed me the same. Trust, Caroline, goes both ways. You didn't come to me, never asked for my opinion - you went to Elijah, to Aiden, to bloody  _ Kol _ , but not to  _ me _ ." Caroline clamps her mouth shut, something like guilt marring the angry lines of her features. "Why didn't you tell me? Why was I the last to know, if you're so certain your actions were so pure?"

"I was going to!" she fires back, defensively. "But I knew how you'd react. I was waiting for the right time - for you to be in a good mood, for us to have the whole ritual figured out, but things moved way faster than I thought, and then Jackson pulled me into these rites and then you showed up like a freaking psycho!"

Klaus scoffs derisively at her feeble attempt at an excuse, tempted to put an end to that useless argument right there so he can retire once more to the company of his drink. If that's the best she can do, this spat is bound to last till nightfall. But then Caroline's eyes are burning into him with that righteous indignation once more. "You know what's worse? You threw that ridiculous tantrum and you couldn't even be honest. Showed up yelling at me, ready to murder Jackson, claiming that it was because of our  _ secret _ ."

"You don't think I'm concerned with you spreading the news of our daughter to those bog mongrels?"

"Oh, I know you are. I am, too. I delayed the entire thing for over a day because I  _ couldn't _ tell Jackson, not without talking to you first. I even called you, but you conveniently didn't answer your phone. But that was  _ not _ what all that was about, and you know it." Klaus shrugs nonchalantly, pursing his lips with disdain. Caroline swells with irritation, her eyes spitting fire at him. "So you don't mind if I marry someone else? Your only issue with that whole thing was that you didn't want me to tell Jackson your daughter is alive? You just really don't give a damn? Because if that's the case, then why the fuck did I even go through all that trouble? Hell, I'll just drop the whole thing right now! I'll call Jackson and tell him we don't need to put our trust in Kol anymore, we'll just throw a big wedding party and get -"

Klaus isn't too sure how it happens. One second, Caroline is standing right before him, huffing out anger twists from rage as her complaints blow into full-on rants. Her outrage brushes up against his own anger as she elaborates on marrying Jackson, sending a thunderous charge jolting down his spine. And then he retaliates by shutting her up with his mouth.

He kisses her with no meekness at all. It's hard, teeth against teeth, mouths sliding together in a devouring dance. Caroline grunts indignantly after a moment, wrenching herself away from him. She's stricken, her face laced with fiery indignation as she tries to regain her breath. For a split-second, Klaus thinks she's going to slap him. With reason, perhaps. A beat goes by, then another, Klaus' heart pounding loudly in his ears, and then Caroline cuts the space between them, flings her arms around his neck and mashes their lips together once more.

Her fingers dig into his hair as they stumble blindly around the room until he hits the couch. Caroline straddles him, grinding down onto his lap. Klaus moans loudly into her mouth, already half-hard, his hands sliding up her thighs, to her ass, pulling her closer still. All that animosity of before explodes into irrational  _ need _ . Klaus buries his face on her neck, grazing her skin with his human teeth, though the desire thrumming through him is quite feral. He wants to claim her, mark her, make her scream his name as she's done so many times now.

_ You're mine _ , he says with every bite, every kiss, every blazing touch of his tongue.  _ You're mine _ , and her breath catches as he tears her shirt off her.  _ You're mine _ , when she writhes and begs and cries out in arousal.

_ You're mine, Caroline. Only mine. And I’m not giving you away. _

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This is  _ not _ how things were supposed to go.

There was supposed to be yelling. Hurtful words would certainly be uttered. Fingers pointed, accusations exchanged. Caroline was going to make Klaus  _ grovel _ for the chance to be forgiven, and he'd have to  _ work _ for it.

He  _ did _ work for it;  _ hard _ . Just not... The way he was supposed to.

She has no idea what happened. They were in the middle of the heated altercation she anticipated, she was snarling at his face, anger taking over, and then... All of a sudden, her clarity was replaced by muddy, irrational desire. She doesn't know where it came from, only that it hit her like a freaking  _ tsunami _ and she was as good as gone.

It doesn't help much that Klaus is always ahead of the curve in matters of sex, what with his thousand years of gathered experience and all. He does things to her body that should be outlawed, sparks flying inside of her like it's the damn 4th of July. Caroline comes undone in his arms in a way she simply cannot help and doesn't really want to try. Each touch, each kiss, each wet hot brush of his lips leaves a smoldering trail that tingles, making all the hair on her body stand to attention. The way Klaus looks at her, the way he handles her, even as they lose themselves to the heat and the friction, their heightened senses feeling like a blessing rather than a curse, it's reverent. Worshipful. And it makes her feel absolutely  _ everything _ .

They have groping, smashing-together, sizzling angry sex. And it is... Quite something. She doesn't think she's ever felt this emotionally drained after sex before, like she poured everything out on those two stellar orgasms. All that carefully constructed reproach was completely wiped off her mind. They lie together in a messy tangle of limbs for a while after, doing their best to fit in the narrow couch. Caroline is half on top of him, her head resting on his chest, while Klaus has one arm around her shoulders and the other folded under his head.

She shuts her eyes, trying to gather her bearings, listening to the soothing sound of his steading heartbeats, his chest rising and falling in tandem with his breath. Slowly, though, as she comes down from the blissful perfection of the afterglow, the thrum of temper begins to flare up once more, its rougher edges dulled at how spent she is.

Caroline shifts a little, looking up at him. Klaus remains undisturbed, with his eyes closed. She studies his thick lashes, his lips, still bruised from the brilliant work they performed, the hollows of his cheeks where dimples cut when he smiles. She admires the ridiculousness of his hair, hopelessly mussed-up by her hands. It still strikes her how insanely handsome Klaus is. Someone as dangerous as him should not be allowed to be so beautiful; it's the perfect trap. How many people has he made dinner of after luring them in with that mouth and those cheekbones? Caroline was certainly guilty of having inadequate  _ thoughts _ of him back when it was still taboo. Although - strangely, Klaus never really weaponized his looks around her. His demeanor was almost... meek, if that's possible. He tried to win her over by showing he wasn't just evil in a flashy package. Not that the flashy package was ever an issue. Far from it. It's hard to stay focused when he fixes those stormy blue-grey eyes of his on you. Still, Caroline thinks she likes him most like this: bared of any masks or pretense, devoid of the smugness and the bitter traces of his volatile temper.

And yet, right now, that serenity is so at home on his face that Caroline has to resist the urge to smack it off. He shouldn't be allowed this kind of peace of mind after what he did.

"You're staring love," he says lowly, his voice hoarse and lethargic, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"I'm not staring, I'm waiting," Caroline replies.

A smug and lazy smile tugs at his lips. "What more could you possibly want?"

"A sincere apology for how much of a delirious, rabid psycho you were today."

"I don't see why I should apologize. I'm not sorry for what I did. In fact, I'd been wanting to do that for ages."

Caroline props herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. "How can you say that with a straight face? You tried to kill Jackson."

He shifts a little in what she assumes is meant as a shrug, dimming the humor in his voice. "If I'd wanted Jackson dead, you'd be weeping at his funeral now."

Caroline opens her mouth, a snappy retort ready to fire, but then she closes it back shut, considering. As outrageous as that sentence might be, Klaus is not lying. She has been so mortified at what he  _ did _ , she never stopped to think of what he  _ didn't _ do, and why.

"You were testing him, weren't you?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. "You cracked his ribs just to see how far he'd go before he gave up on the deal."

"You were going to tell him about Eve, someone had to. Now you know," he says, unrepentant.

Irritation spikes through Caroline once more, and she sits up, collecting her panties from the floor. It's so unbecoming to have an argument while naked. "I never needed a  _ test _ to know." She finds her shirt, which Klaus destroyed as he tore it out of her. Huffing in annoyance, she puts on his instead. "Jackson is an ally, a  _ friend _ , one who's trustworthy and loyal, which is a rare commodity in this city. And one who will do everything in his power to protect Eve."

"You trust him. I don't."

"Well, you should," she snaps, shuffling on her seat so she can look down at him. "He's never done anything to make us doubt him or his intentions."

Klaus' lips curl almost imperceptibly. "He tried to marry you."

"Oh, so  _ now _ you're upset."

Klaus' eyes flit open, thunder crossing his expression. "Any dimwit with half a mind has noticed the way he looks at you. He used Finn's influence over the wolves  _ he _ wasn't strong enough to lead as an excuse to tie you to him."

"No, he didn't. He didn't even want to tell me about the ritual. I grilled it out of him."

Klaus' eyebrows fly up to his hairline. "Oh, so  _ you're _ the one who wanted to push for the wedding ritual? That's much better, then."

"Oh my God, I cannot  _ believe _ I am attracted to you!" she grits out with a frustrated grunt.

He smirks, the bare edge of teeth underneath. "Well, clearly..."

"You're so infuriating!" she fires back. "You know what? I am  _ glad _ I did this. It's our best shot, and as far as I can tell, our  _ only _ shot. I spent three days with our daughter, Klaus, and it is hurting me now more than ever to be apart from her. I don't want her to disappear in the world with Rebekah again. I want to be able to bring her home, raise her myself. I've missed out on too much already."

"I want our daughter here just as much as you," he says, serious now, pushing himself up into a sitting position. For a second, Caroline sees a flicker of hurt underneath his mask of righteous indignation, but then he blinks and it's gone. "But make no mistake, Caroline, I won't let you get married to someone else, if that's the last chance we have to take back the reins over the wolves. I'd rather kill the lot of them altogether and leave my brother with no one to command than watch you walk down an aisle towards Jackson Kenner - better yet, I'll kill a thousand incarnations of Finn with my own hands if I must before I willingly resign to let you attach yourself to that man for the rest of his pathetic life. I refuse to give you up," he says, a steely edge on his voice, face set to determination.

"Was that so hard?" Caroline retorts with a pout, folding her arms across her chest. "Maybe lead with that next time so we can have an honest discussion before you start throwing punches."

"Forgive me for being hurt when I was the last to learn of something I should've been the first to hear about!"

"Well, forgive  _ me _ for being hurt when you didn't show an interest! I went above and beyond to wriggle my way out of that wedding and still keep the benefits because of  _ you _ . Because I didn't want to give you up either and you wouldn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt! It doesn't hurt to admit that you have feelings, Klaus. Sometimes, that is all you have to do."

Klaus locks his eyes on hers, his expression softening as he reaches out, stroking her cheek with his knuckles. "What part of my love for you is still not glaringly obvious?"

"The part where you'd think for even a second that I would marry someone else and not tell you about it."

Klaus drops his hand with a disgruntled huff. "I don't find that reassuring in the least, love. You should've stopped after  _ someone else _ ."

Caroline's gaze slides from him, to her hands, folded on her lap. "You sacrificed something huge when you killed your father to keep her safely hidden. We all have to make sacrifices."

Klaus is quiet for a spell. "It was an impossible choice, how much I wanted to trust Ansel versus how scared I was that his knowledge would be stolen from him and used against us despite his best intentions. But I could ultimately make a decision because there was an obvious choice. Between a man I never knew and my daughter, I would choose Eve every single time." He pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “But I don't think I could choose between the two of you."

Caroline feels a familiar flutter in her chest, a little bruised, perhaps, but as strong as ever. She is transported to the days following her transition, when she would be relatively fine for hours, and then all of a sudden she would snap, overwhelmed by her emotions again, overrun by hunger and crushed by how much her life had changed, and how much she'd never be able to get back. She would cry for hours on end, until her eyes were burning. Klaus never left her side, not even when she lashed out or screamed at him to go away. He was unusually quiet and hurting himself, but he was patient and caring with her during the worst parts of her adaptation. He would calm her down, bring her to bed and hold her until she stopped quaking.

Klaus gave her strength when she had none, believed in her when she would doubt her own shadow, loved her fiercely when she was broken. He is impossible and exhausting and, at times, inexcusable, but that's not everything he is. Sometimes it's a struggle to reconcile all the aspects of his personality - the bloodthirsty monster and the artist; the ruthless dictator and the kind, thoughtful lover; the selfishness and the willingness to sacrifice everything for the ones he cares about. It seems impossible for all of that to coexist in just one person. Maddening, even. She's seen all of those sides of Klaus, the parts he keeps closer to his heart like a secret, bits he's tried to bury for so long, afraid of his own vulnerability.

Some days are tougher than others, but that's something she's come to accept. When you live with the Mikaelsons, you're expected to overlook certain things and add a certain range to your moral compass. Which is not that different from what she had to do back when she was still in Mystic Falls, it's just the scales that have changed. The lines between  _ good _ and  _ bad _ are not as sharp as she used to believe. She can see that more clearly now that she's a vampire herself, and one who was forged out of anger and pain and loss.

Despite all his flaws, which are plentiful and quite dramatic, Caroline loves him. Even when he drives her out of her mind, when he breaks her heart, she still loves him.

"Well, you won't have to choose," she replies after a moment. "Because I figured it out. Jackson and I have completed the trials - don't glare, Klaus, it was nothing. Just a bunch of truth-telling games. I told him about Eve. And he swore to protect her. Now we'll have the ceremony, which will be conducted by his grandmother, who was not a fan of me to begin with, and now that  _ you _ beat the crap out of her grandson, is even less happy to let him stomp all over their clan's traditions. And we're also going to need Kol."

Klaus scoffs. "I  _ definitely _ don't trust  _ him _ ."

"Well, we're gonna have to. He'll make the ceremony stick without the need for vows and marital bonds. And then every single werewolf who swears allegiance to Jackson will get my vampire powers. And I might inherit a few werewolf traits myself."

"You'll become one of them?" he asks, the creases on his brow deepening.

"Not exactly. I won't be able to turn, I won't get toxic bite, but everything else is game. I'll be as strong as a hybrid, and daylight won't burn me anymore. Next best thing under the sun besides you, wasn't that what you said?" Caroline cocks her eyebrows, a smug little grin dancing on the corner her lips. She waits a beat to hear a  _ congratulations _ or an admission of guilt, but when Klaus' expression remains just as impassive and unrelenting, she stands to her feet. "Wow, Caroline,” she starts in a butchering of his posh accent. “You truly are a gem. I am so astounded by your incredible, superior intellect. You are amazing and I am  _ so _ lucky -"

In a blur, Klaus is behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him. "Nobody likes a bragger, love," he whispers in her ear.

"Well, you do," she says, casting him a glance. "Obviously."

Klaus buries his face on the curve of her neck, biting her softly with his regular teeth, feigning a roar. Caroline chuckles, turning her face and lifting his to capture his lips in a proper kiss. Klaus' hands immediately get smart, one sliding down to her hips while the other runs up to cup her breast. She's about to suggest they should move to the bedroom for round two when they're cut off by an intruder.

"Oh, bloody hell!" the woman curses with a horrified look as she turns her face away, putting her hands forward to block her view.

Klaus instantly tenses, pulling Caroline behind him, unashamed despite the fact he's the one who's stark naked.

"Who the hell are you?" Caroline demands. She's never seen this person before in her life and, these days, strangers are more likely to be enemies than friends.

"Someone who's already had the worst week ever and cannot handle seeing her brother's  _ parts _ . Cover yourself up, Nik, will you?! Goodness!"

Caroline frowns, blinking slowly. "What?"

Klaus' grip on her arm slackens and she feels him sagging in relief in front of her, a smile as big as the world breaking onto his face.

"Rebekah."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. 😂 Looking forward to your thoughts on this chapter! I love my boy Jack, but I kinda enjoyed this chapter a lot and have to say that Klaus' monologue by the end was one of my favorite bits to write. 
> 
> Are you still here? Wow, you're a champ! Thank you for coming this far! :)


	13. S02E13 The Devil is Damned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of Mikaelson siblings dynamics going on in this chapter. Lots of action as well, which I'm not sure I'm very good at building up and executing, tbh, so I hope I didn't botch this.

* * *

"That is just not my chin, Nik. It was much more delicate," Rebekah whines as she regards the portrait hanging on the ballroom wall with an acuity she doesn't think she's ever had before. It's not just the body that is new, she thinks; the perspective has also changed. Almost like she can see things with this pair of eyes that her old tired ones couldn’t. Like how  _ unflattering _ this chin is.

She used to love that portrait. Now she sees a million things that are wrong with it. It's almost disrespectful to her old self. She was surely much prettier than that.

"The only delicate thing about you is your ego, sister," Nik snarks.

She whips around at him with a cutting glare. "When placed beside the behemoth size of yours, certainly."

Klaus laughs, dimples cutting into his cheeks. Despite her nerves being all over the place, Rebekah finds herself smiling back at her brother. She was away for a week, but it felt like so much longer. Days stretched into decades inside that wretched house, and for the largest part, she had no idea how or if she would ever find her way out. Many nights, once she put her head down on the appalling excuse for a pillow they gave her, and fear settled inside her like an anchor, Rebekah held on to her memories. It was the only thing that she had that was just  _ hers _ . It kept her grounded, reminding her of who she really was, beyond the stranger's face staring back at her in the mirror.

The kindness in Elijah's eyes. The boyish cheekiness of Nik's smile. The heartwarming sound of her niece's laughter. That was all Rebekah had to go on, to keep the panic at bay and not let the insanity ingrained in that house to seep into her. Now, seeing it in person again, a little flame sparks to life inside of her. It finally feels like home again.

"Can we dispense with this fascinating dispute for just a moment and return to the subject of our supposed long-lost sister?" Elijah's voice sounds from the phone's speaker.

"There's not much to discuss, Elijah," Rebekah says, crossing her arms. "I was locked up at the Fauline mansion with the rest of the degenerate witches, thought I'd never see the light of day again. That place is  _ awful _ . Somebody should see to that, actually. It's inhuman."

"And then?" Elijah prods.

"And then she showed up. I thought she was one of them, she certainly seemed loony enough, but then she served them all their asses and got me out. Rather easily, actually. She said she was Freya and then darted off into the night. That's all I know."

"And you believed her," Nik says, less like a question and more like an accusation.

"I met the girl in a mystical loonie bin. She could be anyone telling any lie, but... She did seem familiar, somehow."

Rebekah's encounter with the woman who claims to be their long-lost sister was as brief as it was intense. Freya - or whoever the hell she was - had been hanging around the mansion with the rest of the cuckoos for days, but for some reason Rebekah felt oddly drawn to her in a way she didn't feel towards any of the other  _ inmates _ . There was just  _ something _ about her that called out to Rebekah. It could their shared blood. It could also be despair impairing her sanity. It's hard to tell.

"Then how is she still alive?" Nik asks waspishly, and before Rebekah can give him the obvious answer to his stupid question, he adds it himself, "A question as ridiculous as its possible solutions, given this family's annoying predilection for cheating death."

"I don't know, Nik. I'm just telling you what she said."

"Well, did you happen to ask if by some similar miracle our aunt Dahlia lives as well?" Heat rises in his tone, his temper rearing its ugly head. Rebekah almost forgot how amazingly fast Nik's mood goes from 0 to 100 and back.

"I barely had a chance to process -" she tries to explain, but he cuts her off again.

"Because on the list of obvious questions, it would be nice to know if the woman who placed a curse on the firstborns of this family is still breathing air!"

"Then let me turn back time and do it again to your liking, then!" Rebekah barks at him, spitting fire.

"Enough both of you," Elijah says in that tired older brother way of his. "If she is who she says, we'll find out soon enough. For now, it remains imperative no one learns of Eve's existence. This has been our salvation thus far."

"Unless Caroline's husband-to-be starts flapping his gums," Klaus grumbles moodily. "Perhaps I should take preventative measures and separate him from his head."

"Jackson will do nothing to jeopardize the ceremony. And stop calling him that, Niklaus, will you? If it annoys me, I can only imagine what it does to Caroline."

"Wait - Caroline is getting married to  _ Jackson _ ?" Rebekah asks, blinking slowly at her brother.

At the same time Elijah says a resounding, " _ No _ " from the other end of the phone, Niklaus spits out, "Over my dead body."

Her eyebrows slash together. "What the hell happened here while I was gone?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Going somewhere?"

Caroline sighs. She was planning on sneaking out before Klaus could take notice, while he was having a family reunion with Rebekah and Elijah to discuss their latest relative to come back from hell, the long-lost sister nobody knew about, Freya. She wasn’t fast enough, it seems.

"Yes," she says simply, zipping up her boots. "How's Rebekah?"

"Tired. May I inquire as to where?" he insists, hands clasped behind his back as he prowls towards her in his typical  _ I'm dangerous and suspicious _ manner.

"Sure," she replies flippantly. "Has she said anything about that mystery sister of yours?"

"Alleged sister." Klaus stops in front of her, eyebrows arched up in question.

Caroline tilts her head. "Is that really the most important topic of discussion right now?" Klaus' demanding expression remains unaltered; Caroline huffs out in annoyance. It's useless to expect him to be sensible, isn't it? "I'm going to the Bayou."

He narrows his eyes, lips twisting into a disapproving pout. "Is that really the most important place for you to be right now?"

"Considering you just beat the crap out of the Crescent alpha I'm supposed to get in a mystical binding ceremony with? Yeah." She stands do her feet, leveling him with a hard look. Despite their heated  _ make up session _ the day before, which also took up a considerable part of the night, Caroline is still very much salty. "Since we can't expect you to do the decent thing and apologize, I have to check on him and make sure that he is, you know,  _ fine _ after you broke his freaking ribs."

Klaus rolls his eyes at her. "How thoughtful."

"Yes, I'm very thoughtful. That's why people like me. You should try it some time."

"If he's not completely healed up by now, his wolf genes are subpar."

"If he's not healed up by now, you and I are gonna have some  _ words _ when I get back."

A wolfish smirk slides onto Klaus' mouth. "I'll be looking forward to it."

Caroline stabs a finger into his shoulder. "Not that kind of word, smartass."

"Fine," he says around an exhale as Caroline breezes by him to get her jacket. "Stay put and I'll send Jackson some flowers."

She snorts loudly. "What, a special wolfsbane arrangement?"

He shrugs. "It's the thought that counts."

"Keep your thoughts to yourself, then. Anyway, Jack sent me a message. He wants to talk."

"About what?"

"I don't know. That's what I'm going to find out. And you better hope he's not pulling out of the ceremony."

"Would that be the worst thing?"

"Yes, it would, and it would also be entirely your fault."

Klaus lets out a mock-wounded and exaggerated sigh. "If only I'd been informed of your plans in a timely manner..."

Caroline slits her eyes accusingly at him. "If only you weren't a temperamental neander-"

In a blur, she finds herself pressed up against the wall, caged between Klaus' arms. "You were saying?" he purrs. His eyes sparkle with malicious intent, his warm breath brushing against her lips. Caroline gets a delicious chill down her spine.

"You're such a bully," she replies lowly, her hands flat on his chest. Instead of shoving him off, though, she closes her fingers around his shirt, a defiant grin tugging at her lips. "I'm not scared of you."

"You should be, sweetheart." He leans in, his nose running across the line of her jaw, and then down her neck. "Haven't you heard? I'm the big..." A kiss. "Bad..." Another kiss. "Wolf." He smiles against her skin, lips touching the sensitive spot right under her ear.

"Well, bad wolf," Caroline breathes out, shifting against him as a wave of heat shoots right through her. "Touch another hair on a Crescents' head and I will kick your ass."

Klaus chuckles, his mouth tracing a wet line on her throat. "You will, will you?"

"Yes." Caroline wraps her hands around his arms and, in a swift move, reverses their positions, pushing Klaus up against the wall, while she's the one pressing flush against him. She feigns a bite, teeth snapping together and narrowly missing his mouth. "I bite now."

Klaus' eyes flash with want, a hint of gold surfacing through the darkened blue. In another hybrid-speed movement, he has her back pressed up against the wall again, except this time there's not an inch of space between them. His mouth is urgent and hot against hers, one hand like fire as it runs from her hip up, cupping her breast, the other tangled in her hair. Caroline's fingers dig hard into his back. The kiss is deep and possessive and in spite of all her bravado, she just melts into his arms, giving in easily to his deft ministrations. It's kind of ridiculous, really.

Despite the fact he is an unfairly good kisser and that Caroline has very little dignity when it comes to that short-fused hybrid, when he starts to pull out her jacket she snaps back to her senses and holds him off.

"Nu-uhn," she mumbles against his mouth. Klaus pulls back just a smidge, enough for her to see his frown. "We're just making out," she says, placing a peck on the corner of his mouth, and then she wriggles away from him. It's really hard to focus when Klaus's mouth is this dark and swollen and ready to ravage her some more. "I'm expected in the Bayou."

He grunts loudly in displeasure, leaning back against the wall with a pout. "You would leave me for that swamp dog?"

"Dramatic much?" she says around an eye roll, fixing her hair to the best of her abilities. "You should count yourself lucky I let you cop a feel after you assaulted my friend, Klaus."

"You know, you're not making me like him any better."

Caroline straightens her jacket, checks herself on the mirror. Her pink mouth leaves no doubt as to what she'd been up to, but it'll wear off in a bit, though she suspects she'll be thinking about it for much longer. "Good thing you're not the one binding yourself to him in a mystical ceremony, then," she says, smiling as she swirls on her heels and goes for the door. "Don't do anything stupid."

With a bit of luck, Klaus will behave as a moderately decent human being today and she won't have to feel guilty over picking up where they left off tonight. Until then, he can suffer for a little while. It's the least he deserves.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus' knuckles clench and whiten around his phone as he puts it down with a curse, resisting the urge to fling the damned thing across the room. It's apparently too much to ask for a single day of peace around here. First Freya, then Caroline skipping off to the Bayou, and now this. There's no rest for the wicked.

"That was Aiden," he tells Rebekah. "Finn has Marcel."

His sister straightens up, her dark brown eyes filling with familiar concern. "What? Why?"

"I don't know. Nor do I know where they are, what they're doing or what specifically to do about it." He picks up a vase from the mantlepiece, closing his hand tightly around it before forcing himself to put it down with a thud. "This family makes me want to murder people."

"I see my timing is as impeccable as usual."

He and Rebekah whip around like thunder as Kol walks in. The nerve of that wanker...

Klaus narrows his eyes at his brother, taking a step forward. "The traitor thinks he can just waltz in here like he's welcome."

"As gracious as your apology better be, you're still getting one hell of a slap!" Rebekah grits out, lunging at him with her slim hands closed in tight fists.

"Wait, wait!" Kol takes a step back, putting both his hands out in a gesture of surrender. "I understand the irony of what I'm about to say, but... I came here because I need your help.”

Klaus lets out a sardonic laugh. He has to be joking if he honestly thinks anybody in that house is going to move a finger in his aid.

"Think about how to undo your wicked little body swap, and then we can talk about help," Rebekah bites out.

"Look, you don't understand. Finn has locked me in this body, no more jumping. He's put a curse on me. I'm dying." Kol looks at them like he expects tears and hugs, but Klaus merely huffs, while Rebekah crosses her arms, neither of them looking at all impressed with his sob story. "You don't believe me."

"You're hardly the champion of truth telling," Klaus says.

"Of course. Why would a brother expect his siblings to leap to his aid when he's  _ dying _ ?"

"Oh, spare me the pity party, Kol," Klaus snaps. "First you put Rebekah in the body of a witch locked away for life at an inescapable prison, then you tell me Caroline came to you for help in  _ marrying _ Jackson Kenner. Your recent actions merit a certain allowance for disbelief."

"I was just messing with you about Caroline," he protests. "I knew it was easy enough to undo the misunderstanding."

Klaus glares, saying darkly, "I almost killed Jackson."

"It's not my fault you have psychotic reactions to simple provocations, is it? How was I supposed to know that the first thing you'd do would be to assassinate the poor lad? And you, Bekah," he turns to their sister. "I won't apologize for trying to pull one over you. You deserved it." Rebekah scoffs. Still bitter over that time when he ended up daggered during their Christmas party, it seems. "I don't deserve to die, certainly not at the hands of my own family."

Klaus walks over to him, leveling Kol with a hard look. "What kind of con are you playing?"

"The con I hate the most. The truth."

"He's not lying, Nik," Rebekah says. "Even as a boy, Kol never lied once called out on the act. He may play dirty pool, but he's not lying."

Klaus turns away, scrubbing a hand across his face. Like he didn't have enough problems already... He's not at all inspired to put his or anyone else's safety at risk for Kol, especially not in such a crucial time. He dug his own grave, as far as Klaus is concerned, and certainly didn't feel inclined towards helping anyone until he had something to gain - or to lose. To his luck, in order for Caroline's werewolf Hail Mary to work, they need Kol alive. Personally, Klaus doesn't think it would be the worst thing if they were unable to take it forward, but he's in hot water with Caroline already as it is; it’s best not to stretch her patience further or else it might snap for good.

"Nik," Kol says in a small, pleading voice, so very unlike him. He must be desperate, indeed. "I was helping Marcel for Davina, that's why Finn punished me. He's got him and the rest of the vampires. Finn is trying to get a secret out of him, something he thinks Marcel knows about you."

Bloody brilliant. The universe never seems to run out of plagues to cast his way. It's one disaster after the next. If Finn finds out Marcel has been compelled, with the power he has, it'll take a second for him to unearth his memories.

"He's right, isn't he?" Kol asks when he notices the exasperated looks between him and Rebekah.

Klaus wipes the concern off his face, schooling it back into perfect annoyed impassiveness. "Marcel doesn't know anything about anything."

"Well, you better hope that's true," Kol says. "Because, believe me, Finn has the means to get anything out of him."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kol hates this. He hates absolutely everything about this. Having to grovel at Nik's feet like he's some paragon of correctness. Laboring to garner his siblings' support when he's bloody  _ dying _ and none of them seem to show the slightest bit of remorse. The doubt and the judgement and the disdain cast upon him by the both of them, like they think Kol deserves everything that comes his way. One brother condemns him to death, the other holds his lifeline ransom until he proves his  _ worth _ .

Well, he shouldn't have to prove any bloody thing. They're siblings, for goodness' sake. Nik didn't even bat an eyelid before leaving him to become vampire food when he learned of what happened to Rebekah. He didn't rest until he rescued Elijah from mother's captivity. But for him? Not even an  _ I'm sorry _ . Nada. He's the brother no one cares about, only one step above Finn, who's now the brother everyone wants dead.

Like a bloody fool, Kol allowed himself to believe that there might yet be a way for them all to be a family again. His list of offenses is nothing compared to Nik's, and yet they still act as though Kol is the villain, not the one who's been wronged and unfairly treated for an entire millennium.

He should've just left. With mother gone, there was nothing more keeping him in this sodden city but his feeble hope of finding himself a home in a place where he's never been wanted. That and Davina Claire, of course. Maybe they should've left together. New Orleans has never shown her any kindness either. They could start over somewhere else, far away from this toxic place.

As he starts on the locator spell he's been tasked with by Nik as his first loyalty test, Kol decides that's exactly what he's going to do, if he can wriggle his way out of this one. It'll take a miracle. The only one who can undo the hex is Finn himself, and in order to get to him, Kol will need all the help he can find.

"So what's the secret anyway?" he asks as he prepares the enchantment. As determined as he is to disengage himself from his family's web of lies and scheming, he has to say he's curious. Finn was certain he was on to something big. They've been acting weird, indeed. Rebekah was missing for months, cloaked by spells so powerful even mother couldn't track her straight away. Now that she's returned, Elijah's gone. Kol can't figure out what could possibly be so important they'd go to all these lengths to keep it hidden.

"The term 'secret' implies something only known by those who have earned the right to be aware of it," Nik says. "Start the spell."

"That's easier said than done. Finn is channeling the power from our parents. He's a lot stronger than something some week-old witch and I can do."

"Now, hang on," Rebekah protests. "I might not be trained but I'm -" With a flick of her hand, she sends all of Kol's preparations in the air, the rock salt he'd carefully laid on the map all gone. Rebekah deflates as Kol glares at her. "Oh... Blast."

"We need a stronger witch," Klaus says. "Call Davina."

"No, no, no, no." Now it's Kol's turn to object. He stands to his feet, gesticulating frantically and shaking his head for emphasis. "We can't call her here. I don't want her to know I'm sick."

"Then do a better bloody job," Klaus snipes.

"I need time to get this working. And for Bekah to stop destroying it."

"We need you alive for the ceremony, Kol, and we won't be able to guarantee that you are if we don't stop Finn."  _ Of course _ , Kol thinks. That's why he's even considering to help him. Because of this bloody ceremony. Kol's got half a mind to botch it and make sure that the effect will only take if Caroline does, indeed, lead a married life with Jackson. He's going to die anyway, at least he'd go pulling one up on his royal arsehole of an unrepentant brother. "The spell that he cast to lock you in your body," Nik continues. "Do you remember it?"

"Well, I was a little distracted by the murdery part."

"If we can use his own spell against him, once he's locked in his body, I can end our collective woes with a brief snap of his neck. All I need is to pull it out of your memory."

"No, no, no. No way." Kol takes a step back, putting as much space as he can between him and his brother. There are things in his mind Nik absolutely cannot ever see. Some of which he'd spent a lot of time hunched over these past few weeks. His situation is precarious enough as it is. "I am not allowing anybody into my mind. Do you understand?" he says resolutely.

Klaus' eyes flash. "You came into my home, asking for my help, after you nearly caused an unfixable mess by playing a  _ prank _ . You want help? This is it. And it's not a request."

Before Kol can block him, Nik lunges at him, clutching his head between his hands and forcing his way into Kol's mind. Kol reels, his memories scrambling for a moment as his brother travels through them, digging deeper than he obviously had to. A second later, however, he lets go, and when Kol sees the expression on his brother's face, the pinch between his eyebrows, the wild glint in his eyes, he knows Klaus has seen exactly what he wasn't supposed to: the weapon Kol had been working on with Davina to put him down.

"See? I'm guessing, just by the look on your face, that it worked. But just listen -"

A furious snarl rips out of Klaus' throat as he grabs Kol by his shirt and sends him flying across the courtyard. The air is knocked out of his lungs when he slams against the wall, his eyes exploding in white when his head hits the bricks.

A brother who curses him to death and another who would kill him with his bare hands.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline stops at a distance, enjoying the view of Jackson Kenner, mighty alpha of the proud Crescent pack, being mobbed by children. They hang from his arms and his back, tiny hands flung around his neck while he lifts and swirls them with a playful roar, enchanted laughter filling the air.

Jackson loves kids, and they love him right back; he's great with them. How could he ever think about marrying an undead woman who would never be able to give him children of his own? Now he knows she comes with one, but he didn't before, and he still considered it. He wouldn't just be giving up on fatherhood, something he was clearly cut out for, but on continuing his family line. It would be a shame for him to end up stuck in a convenience marriage with the mother of Klaus Mikaelson's daughter. Not that Caroline doesn't think he wouldn't make an amazing stepdad, it's just... Well, Klaus.

Klaus is the complete antithesis of Jackson. Wasn't born with a single parental vein in his body. If it ever existed, it stayed dead when his mother made a vampire out of him. And yet, when Caroline remembers him with Eve at the safe house... He was so gentle with her, so careful in the way he held her, rocking her in his arms with such tenderness. Even the way he panicked whenever he thought he'd done something wrong was endearing. Of course, Caroline didn't think he'd be a brute to a baby, especially not his own, but... She wasn't ready for  _ that _ . It was so... human. The sparkle in his eyes, the smile on his face - it was so pure, so honest. Completely stripped of the usual irony and the haughty attitude that color so much of his emotions. It was Klaus as unembellished as she's ever seen him. Caroline's heart pounded in her chest with an impossible love, as well as a bit of an aphrodisiac rush, if she's to be completely honest.

Klaus has a terrible penchant for making the lives of the people who love him the most incredibly hard, but moments like that... It just doesn't compare. How could Caroline ever marry someone else? Klaus has ruined her for pretty much everyone. It will always be him from now on, the source of all comparison.

Seeing children brings Caroline a different kind of feeling now that she's actually been with hers. For six whole months, it made her tear up and ache for everything she'd lost, everything she'd been forced to give up on. Now, it fills her chest with warmth, makes her wonder what it'll be like to have Eve with her, playing with other kids, bursting with laughter and joy.

It's good to see the children running around the camp again. Just a little while ago this place was completely abandoned, now it's bustling with movement and people. Not as many as it once had, but... It's a start. And all because of that ceremony. They sure have a lot to live up to. A hell of a responsibility.

Jackson waves when he sees her, almost tumbling back as he loses his balance for a moment. Caroline chuckles, waving back at him. He leans forward, putting the little girl who was hanging on his back on the ground and telling something to the kids, pointing to her. They all look at her with big eyes, then start to giggle conspiratorially before they run off.

"Someone's in high demand," she says as she walks up to him. "Maybe I should come back some other time."

"Nah, it's all right. I'll have more than enough time to play with the kids once this is all over."

"What were they giggling about?"

Jackson smiles awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "They've heard the same thing everyone else did. They think you and I, you know... That you're my girlfriend."

Caroline gapes. "I'm gonna  _ kill _ Aiden."

"They're just kids. The adults have all been properly drilled."

"Yeah, try telling that to Klaus. I'm sure he'll have a laugh.”

"Did you get in trouble?"

"Me? No. Him? Definitely. But I think I knocked some sense into him. He's still not thrilled about it, but he seems to have understood what we're doing here and why. He won’t be a problem anymore."

"So long as I don't get beaten within an inch of my life again any time soon."

Caroline's forehead crinkles as she gets a hot rush of shame. "I'm so sorry, Jackson. Are you alright?"

"Good wolf genes," he says, fixing her with a broad smile, not even a tiny bit of resentment hidden underneath. "All healed up already. And you don't have to apologize. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, well," she says, looking down at her feet. "It could've been avoided if I hadn't chickened out of telling him before we started the whole preparations."

"On to better news, then. I'm getting word of a few packs outside of Louisiana. They wanna be here for the ceremony. They want in on the unification ritual."

"I thought the ritual only affected the powers of the wolves in your pack."

"Unless they recognize me as their alpha. Then they become a part of my pack, sworn to me like everyone else. Then your power becomes their power, too."

"And you think other alphas will step down and bow to you?"

Jackson's lips curves into a triumphant, proud smile. "They're coming here today to do just that. The meeting will be at Mary's. And I'd like you to be there."

"Me? Why?"

"Because you're a central part in all this. These men are alphas, the leaders of their clans. If they're going to be submitting before a vampire, I think they'd like to know you first."

A ripple of uncertainty runs through Caroline. She feels weird taking part in wolf business like this. But it hits her suddenly that she hadn't been looking at this ceremony the right way. By bounding herself to Jackson, the wolves will be answering to  _ both _ of them. It means they're taking her not only as a part of their pack, but recognizing her as a leader. When Klaus told her to  _ step up _ with the werewolves, she never thought she'd be coming this far.

She takes a deep breath, nodding at last. "Ok. We can do that. I'll put on my best Miss Mystic Falls smile. I'm told it's infallible." Jackson cocks an eyebrow at her, but Caroline waves him off. "Don't ask."

"I know this can be a lot," he starts softly, probably sensing the nerves radiating off of her. "But think of it this way. In just a few more days, your little girl is gonna have a hell of an army to protect her."

This whole situation has put Caroline on edge more than it's offered her any real reassurance so far, but now, looking into Jackson's eyes, she finally gets a little ember of optimism. If they can pull this off, if this ritual isn't just the product of a resurrected madman's delirious mind - they might actually get to bring Eve home. For real.

For the first time, she feels a thrill of anticipation, and the ceremony is suddenly not something to be afraid of, but rather something to look forward to.

Almost as soon as the feeling comes, though, it goes away. All of Caroline’s senses sharpen at once as alarm bells chime loudly inside her head. Her eyes quickly roam around the camp, but she doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. Her instincts tell her whatever is watching them - because she can  _ feel _ it, eyes on her and Jackson, brushing against her perception - is somewhere under the cover of the trees. Then she feels the scent. It stands out because it's so  _ not _ wolf, not even a tiny bit.

_ Vampire _ .

"Is everything ok?" Jackson asks.

"Super," she replies hastily, her smile a bit too overdone to be entirely honest. "I... Remembered I have to call someone. Go ahead. I'll meet you at Mary's."

He hesitates for a second before conceding and walking off towards his grandmother's cabin. As soon as he's out of sight, she whooshes towards the trees, going straight for the trespasser that had been spying on them.

Caroline frowns when Marcel puts his hands up after she shoves him against a tree.

"What the hell, Marcel?"

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," he says defensively.

"Then why the hell are you stalking me? I sensed you, it wouldn't be long before one of the wolves caught a whiff of you here. Then you'd be in big trouble. You're lucky we're friends."

"I need you to remember our friendship when I tell you why I'm here." Caroline folds her arms across her chest, her frown deepening. "Finn sent me to get your blood."

"Why would Finn want my blood?"

"I assume he needs it for a locator spell," Marcel says, and then, after a pause, he adds, "To find your daughter."

Marcel's words hit Caroline like a blow, dull and heavy. She goes instantly cold, panic splintering across her chest.

"No," she breathes out, swallowing hard against the churning in her stomach. "How does he know? How do  _ you _ know?"

"He tortured me for over a day. He realized there was a blank space in my memories of the night your daughter died. Or when she should've died. When I couldn't offer an explanation, he put two and two together. I was compelled to forget, wasn't I?"

"You agreed to it," Caroline huffs, her pulse a mad beat inside her skull.

Marcel nods. "I figured."

Her head is spinning, worry settling at the pit of her stomach like a bomb. But she draws a deep breath in, trying to will away the panic so she can think more clearly. "Where is Finn now?"

"I don't know. He said he'd tell me where to meet him later, but listen. He's holding everyone hostage and every hour I fail to deliver your blood to him, he's killing one of my guys."

She pinches the bridge of her nose, her thoughts completely scattered. All that trouble to get that ritual to happen for a juiced-up Finn to find out about Eve before they even get the chance to empower the wolves against him. This is her worst nightmare come to life.

Marcel looks at her expectantly. She gets he's in a terrible situation as well, but she can't just give him her blood and let Finn find her daughter.

"I need to call Klaus."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Pick up the damn phone, Elijah! Finn is trying to find Eve!" Klaus growls into his mobile, putting it down with an angry grunt. He's on the verge of doing something dramatic, although he has no idea what, which only disturbs him further.

He feels completely hand-tied and out of his depth, and that kind of helplessness brings out the absolute worst in Klaus, makes him want to  _ murder _ everything that breathes but for a very privileged few. His life would be made so much easier if there were  _ less _ people in this world.

Caroline is having a fit of her own in the Bayou, wants to drop everything and head straight to Arkansas, but that is completely useless right now. It's a six hours drive, and it doesn't feel like they have six hours to spare. What they need is to find a way to stop Finn before he manages to break through the cloaking spells guarding Eve, preferably for good, but the latest unfortunate development means they're past the trivialities. If what it takes to halt his brother is to break his spine, even though he'll simply jump into a new body, which gives him the leverage of anonymity, then so be it. Anything to keep him from reaching Eve.

First and foremost, however,  _ he needs Elijah to answer his bloody phone _ .

"She's safe, Nik," Rebekah says in a way she probably means as comfort, but he can hear all the inflections of doubt on her voice. This new body has taken away Rebekah’s nuance for lying. "It'll take a hundred witches to break the cloaking spell."

"I would've said the same about mother finding you, and yet a flock of starlings later and here we are," he snaps.

"Elijah will never let Finn get to her. We have to trust him. But you need to stay calm."

"Our brother doesn't do calm." They turn to see Kol crossing the arched entryway to the courtyard, spoiled for a spar, it seems. He scrambled out in a burst of fury after Klaus attacked him, uttering all manner of profanities and swearing to never return. Less than an hour later and he's already back, the little tosser. He's chosen a terrible day to test Klaus' patience, though. His quota for inconvenient troublesome siblings has been fulfilled entirely by Finn.

Before Klaus has a chance to give him a taste of his mood, however, Kol puts his hand forward, baring his teeth, and giving him a stroke that puts him on his knees, clutching his head. A roar rips out of his throat, half anger, half agonizing pain. He vaguely registers a strangled scream behind him, followed by a loud thud. Rebekah has been taken down as well. Klaus grinds his teeth together, growling like an animal.

"Oh, you're angry, are you?" Kol sneers. "Well, join the party! I've been here for a thousand years! You have no idea, brother." He dials up the intensity of the attack, and Klaus' vision swims before him. "I was building that dagger to protect myself against you, Nik. I'm not the bad guy in this chapter of your family's story. I'm the wronged one. I'm the dead but never mourned! Whilst you got everything that you ever wanted, I got a family that didn't care if I lived or if I died."

Kol's emotional outpouring causes him to lose his grip of Klaus, the pain in his skull dimming enough for him to make a move. In a blink, Klaus has his hand around his younger brother's throat, slamming him back against a wall with rage burning behind his eyes.

"We've all suffered! We've all been wronged!" he snarls hotly at his face.

"Go on! Go on, Nik!" Kol bites out, his eyes a well of hurt. "Finish it off! Put me out of my misery. Go, on! Kill me!"

Klaus growls furiously, but lets go of his grip and steps away from Kol, letting him slide bonelessly to the ground. Despite his hunger for murder, it appears his little rascal of a brother sits among the privileged spared. "I'm not gonna kill you, you idiot! Despite your behavior, you're still my brother. I never killed you before, I was never going to kill you now."

Kol's face tightens. "Yeah," he speaks quietly. "I'm just the one you dagger repeatedly."

"I've daggered all of you! Each for your own good," Klaus fires back. "If you don't agree with my motives, fine. I never claimed to be the bastion of temperance. But stop this drivel about being singled out and unloved. You are a Mikaelson. You're my blood!" Klaus takes a steadying breath, crouching down in front of him. "And I need you," he says in a softer tone, surprising himself with how much he actually means it. "I need you by my side."

They never had much in common, not even as children, and the gap only grew larger as time passed. Kol's effusive personality clashed constantly with Klaus' short temper. The few times when they seemed to get along were, Elijah will say, the very worst of Klaus' years, when he reached the highest peaks of his lunacy and the lowest valleys of humanity. Those were the only points where he and his younger brother would meet. There were times, however, brief and rare though they were, when Klaus would catch a glimpse of the little boy that would run around the woods with him when they were kids. The one with the loudest laugh and the wittiest replies.

He never really stopped seeing Kol as a child, he guesses. Someone inconsequential, stubborn and who had to be taught lessons and taken care of, against his own will if needed be. Klaus sees now, as clear as daylight, how the bond forged between Rebekah, Elijah and himself was a sore spot for Kol. He didn't just want to be free to wreak havoc and torch down the world at his leisure; he wanted a piece of what they had. To be a part of their little club. Whenever they shut him out, he'd shake the boat out of spite. Not unlike Klaus and his violent jealous outbursts, if he's to be honest.

What he never tolerated about his younger brother's behavior was, in fact, a trait they shared in common. He didn't want to see himself reflected in Kol's fits of tempers, didn't want to be confronted by the ugliest face of his selfishness. Instead of punishing himself, he punished Kol. And looking at him now, Klaus can see every shade of the bitter hurt built over years and years, mangled with fear for what's yet to come.

"What does it even mean, Nik?" Kol asks, his voice small and suddenly void of any heat. "You talk family this, family that. You met Caroline the other day and already she's more a part of your family than I've ever been."

"Don't try to compare yourself to Caroline, Kol. You're my brother, my blood, and you'll always be. But she… She's my whole world."

"I bet she's in on your secrets," he says sourly. "Which I haven't even earned the right to share, have I?"

"No, you haven't. But by all means, brother, prove yourself. Show me I can trust you. It's not too late."

Klaus stands to his feet and offers a hand to his brother. Kol's face softens as he nods, taking Klaus' hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.

"Finn wants your blood," he says. "He promised to heal me if I delivered it."

"You know where he is?"

"You've gotta tell me why he wants it, Nik. For once in your life, you've got to trust me. I will stand by your side, I promise."

Klaus considers him. "You would risk your life to help me?"

"I know enough about dark magic to know I'm hexed. I know now there's no reversing what Finn has done to me, which makes him a murderer and a liar, and if I'm gonna die, I'll be damned if he gets what he wants."

Klaus feels a bitter stab of remorse. He thought there would be a way out for him yet, that they could force Finn to undo his magic, or find someone powerful enough, perhaps channeling something strong, to do it. Even though they've done nothing but argue and come to blows this time around, Klaus' heart aches with sadness over learning he's really dying. It takes him right back to Mystic Falls, when those miserable sods left him trapped in a room for an entire day with his little brother's charred body, too late to save him and unable to honor him as he deserved. Klaus was so out of himself, so consumed with grief and anger over his brother’s death, he even harmed Caroline.

"Finn has been dead to me for a long time," he says. "Tonight, I intend to make that official. Help me, then I will tell you my secret."

Kol takes both his hands and places them on each side of his head. "Go on, read my mind. Find the spell. Let's kill our brother."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kol has to say, Finn is a lot more devious than anyone ever gave him credit for. For a thousand years, he settled behind that aloof mask of superiority, resigning himself to being Esther's errand boy, boring to the last strand of hair on his head. Kol never thought he had any imagination of his own, much less a cunning one, but as it turns out, there was a thinking brain under all that lapdog display. And one that will bugger them up now.

As soon as Nik tracks down the correct spell to lock Finn in Vincent's body, they go to the bell tower at the St. Louis Cathedral, where their loony brother said he'd be waiting for the collected blood. The place is completely deserted, but not untouched. They find the remnants of a spell that makes Kol buck. Ancient, powerful magic, the type he hadn't seen in many, many centuries. The kind of magic Esther would tap into for her most powerful spells, and that neither Kol nor Finn were ever taught. It would be useless in any case, because it would take a hell of a lot more power than they could ever hope to have - on their own, anyway. They know exactly what Finn is drawing this kind of magic from - Esther and Mikael's bodies are still missing. But where did he even learn how to do this?

It takes Kol a moment to decipher the intricacies of the spell to understand what it was even meant for - and when he does, everything snaps into place.

"It's a locator spell," he tells Nik and Rebekah. "He summoned a hell of a lot of power to find something. And by the looks of it... He's done it."

The look on his brother's face tells him whatever Finn has tracked down is the secret he'd been trying to protect so valiantly. He is terrified. Whatever it is, it means a lot more to him than Kol could've ever imagined.

"Finn tricked us into running about in a wild goose chase all day thinking he was looking for a way to find -" Rebekah starts, but cuts herself off, casting her eyes at Nik.

His brother's lips are clenched into a fine line. "He knew it all along. He wanted us distracted to stay ahead."

"Well, where is he, then?" Kol asks. "Let's find him."

"It's six hours away. We'll never catch him," Klaus says darkly. "He's going where Elijah is."

Kol could try astral projecting there, if he can channel Rebekah, but it'll serve them nothing the way Finn is, juiced up on mommy and daddy. He knows their brother has been keeping both of them at the Lycée, but he also knows that their exact location has been spelled against intruders, and not all the magic they can gather right now will be enough to break through that barrier. Vincent Griffith's blood is the key element to disrupting that enchantment, and that's unfortunately many hours away from them.

Kol rakes a hand through his hair, going through centuries and centuries of dusty memories of magic spells to try and come up with an alternative while Nik calls Caroline, who's been texting him nonstop after updates, and then tries to reach Elijah - again to no avail. Their brother's silence has suddenly gained a whole new weight, one that hangs palpable in the air. If Finn already found him...

"I know what to do," Kol blurts out all of a sudden. The idea doesn't come from his past. He knew having his every thought dominated by Davina Claire would prove fruitful at some point. She might yet save them. "I can't sever the link between Finn and our parents, but there's something else we can try. It'll take power of our own, and a lot of it. We need to head to the Lycée. And I'm going to need every powerful dark object you can get your hands on - and to channel you, Bekah."

"Of course," she says. "We'll go ahead, then. Nik, can you -"

"On it."

In a blink, Klaus vamps off to collect his relics from the compound, while he and Rebekah race as fast as their human speed will allow, heading for the City of the Dead. Even though they can't access Mikael and Esther’s tomb, it's not too difficult to find  _ where _ exactly they are being kept. That massive source of energy leaves an imprint that is impossible to dispel.

"How do we disrupt Finn from channeling our parents in there if we can't even get to the bloody binding circle?" Rebekah demands as he sets up the spell outside the tomb, lighting up candles and drawing up a power circle with rock salt. He can't fault Rebekah for her lack of vision; her world is still bound by a thousand years as a vampire. She never cared about learning magic any more than the absolute necessary, which is why she fails to see the loopholes and the faulty lines that exist in every spell.

"Magic isn't an exact science, sister," he tells her. "You have to see beyond. We're not here to disrupt Finn's power. We're going to overload it."

"Are you daft? You want to make him  _ stronger _ ?"

"A witch can only ever channel so much power. After that, things start to get ugly. I mean, you literally start to disintegrate from the inside. You were there when Davina died, weren't you? You saw what the Harvest girls' power did to her." Rebekah's eyes light up with comprehension. "That's exactly what we're going to do here, except in a hastier manner. Finn is drawing from mother and father only what he can sustain, which is already a lot. If we add more to the mix, he won't be able to control it anymore. He'll either have to release the power or, well... Let it kill him."

"But he won't be dead, he'll just body jump", Rebekah counters.

"Yes, into a body 300 miles away from whatever it is he's trying to nab. Whatever poor sod he's prepared to host him next is likely here, in New Orleans. It'll cut his umbilical cord to our parents' magic, Vincent will be dead, which means the barrier here will be down, and he will be far enough away from his target that you and Nik can beat him to it."

A proud smile slowly breaks onto his sister's face. "In case you're wondering... This is the side of you I like," she says, softly.

Kol casts his eyes downwards as a guilty pang shoots through him. Imminent death, it seems, has put things under new perspective. He suddenly realizes how pointless sheltering resentment over something that happened one hundred years ago was. It brought him no joy, no sense of vindication. It only pushed him further away from his family, when he should've been working on getting closer to them, making up for the lost time, not wasting any more of it. It seems he was also blindfolded by his previous vampiric existence. When you're mortal, the most precious thing you have is time.

"Look..." he says, sheepishly, as he stands to his feet and finally meets his sister's eyes. It's funny how he can see Rebekah in this woman's unfamiliar features. Her sparkle, her unshakable faith in her family, that wicked little grin… That’s all her. "I'm gonna get you back in your body, Bex, if it's the last thing I do. Promise."

She takes his hand. "Right now, just worry about how in blazes I'm gonna be of any use to you whatsoever when I know nothing about magic."

"You don't need to know anything about magic. Just open yourself up and I'll be able to tap into your power."

As if on cue, Nik storms in carrying a bag. He drops it none too gently at Kol's feet. "Mystical artifacts and dark objects galore from my own personal collection, garnered over one thousand years."

Kol crouches down, inspecting the things he's brought, and he's instantly hit by how many of those items are familiar to him. "I wondered where this had gone... Half this stuff is mine!"

Klaus merely arches his eyebrows at him, totally unapologetic. "And there's more," he says, putting his hand in his jacket. He fishes out Papa Tunde's blade,  _ oozing _ a kind of dark magic unlike any object Kol has ever seen before. And...

"The white oak stake?" Kol says, lips parted in shock as he stands up again. "You want to trust me with this?"

"Whatever you need," he says, without a shadow of doubt. "Whatever it takes."

Kol takes the stake, feeling its ancient magic in his hands. Whatever it is that they're hiding, it must be really important. He has his suspicions, but... If it really is what he thinks it is, then this is the greatest con Nik's ever pulled.

"All right," he says, scattering the objects inside the power circle before he puts his hands out to Rebekah. "Let's get started."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Marcel watches as all the color drains out of Caroline's face, her fingers clenching around the phone as she hangs up on Klaus.

"Finn sent you and Kol on your quests as a plan to keep us distracted. He's already going after her," she says. Her voice is quiet, but Marcel senses the thrum of fear underneath it. "I need to get there."

She looks around, a little lost at first, before she sets her eyes on the door and makes to leave. She explained to him that Jackson is meeting with eight alphas from different packs who are willing to bow to his authority in order to take part in a weird ritual that will pass her powers on to every wolf who attends the ceremony and swear allegiance to the Crescents. Honestly, Marcel doesn't know how to feel about that. A few months ago, news like this would be having him climbing up walls in anxiety. It's the kind of thing he spent an entire year trying to prevent - exactly what got him in the mess he's in right now, exiled and with nothing but baby vamps in his ranks. But this isn't just  _ any _ wolf that will be taking over - it's Jackson. Despite all the decades’ old bad blood he has with the Crescents, he doesn't think they're looking to start another war. Quite the opposite. Now that he knows what had Caroline and the Mikaelsons fretting all over for the past few months, he understands that what they're trying to do here is restore peace to New Orleans, so that their little girl can come home.

That's something else he's still a little shaken over. As they walked to Mary Dumas' cabin, where that meeting with the alphas is supposed to take place, Caroline filled him in on the details he's missing. She told him how he saved Eve - he likes the name, by the way - when Monique Deveraux was about to execute her, then took her and ran back to the compound, hoping that Klaus would follow and that they'd still have enough time to heal all his friends. This part Marcel remembers - walking into the courtyard to find the Guerreras had gone back to finish all of them off. He collected and burned every single one of them in a lonely ceremony. That kind of grief is something not even an Original compulsion can wipe off.

Then Caroline told him of their plan, how they realized they'd need to keep their daughter safely away from New Orleans and the Guerreras for as long as it took to get all the rings that were forged with Klaus' blood back. That was, of course, before they realized they had far worse problems than Francesca Correa and her gangster brothers. Marcel agreed to all of that - to aiding them in spreading the story of the baby's death and then having his memories erased so there would be no gaps in their lie. He can see how he would easily agree to it. Children have always been his weak spot. Even now, knowing that she is safe, he feels awful for everything that happened and the part he played, terribly sorry that her parents, especially her mother, didn't get to be with her for the first six months of her life. But he can also see how Rebekah must've had a blast taking care of her niece... A thousand years of bloodlust couldn't erase the maternal vein in her. Eve was in good hands.

And now she's in terrible danger. Again.

He gets Caroline's instinct to go to her daughter, but that's not the smartest move now. She'll never beat Finn to it.

"Wait," he says, pulling her back before she storms out. "You said so yourself, it's six hours away. Finn's already on his way. He'll make it there before you no matter what."

"I can't just stand here and do nothing while that maniac goes for my daughter!"

"Caroline, listen to me." Marcel puts his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. "There is no way that Elijah is gonna let anything happen to your baby girl. Don't you trust him?"

"Of course I trust him, but Finn -"

"Won't ever be able to beat him. I know Elijah as well as anyone. He's just as ruthless as Klaus, if not more, protecting his family and the people he loves. Finn doesn't know what he's in for. You leave now, you'll never make it on time." A thousand objections raise to Caroline's lips, but Marcel beats her to it by raising his tone just enough to get her attention back. "Klaus is working on disrupting his power. You have an important meeting waiting for you outside."

"How the hell do you expect me to attend a  _ business meeting _ right now, Marcel?"

"It's not just any meeting. You know you're needed out there, and you know why. Trust that everyone is doing everything they can, and go help Jackson build the army that will help you keep your girl safe tomorrow. She'll need it."

Caroline lets out a disgruntled breath, hesitating. Her mind will never be completely in it, but if she bails now, this deal with the alphas might never come through. Marcel can hardly believe he's pushing for something like that to happen, but he knows he's right. That girl is the daughter of Klaus Mikaelson. An empowered werewolf army might not be of much use today, but it'll certainly be tomorrow, and for the rest of her life. Even Marcel has been targeted for his proximity to the Mikaelsons; Eve will have it much worse.

After a moment, Caroline seems to convince herself of that as well. Still reluctant, she nods her head to him, touching his arm with a light grateful gesture. "Don't come outside," she says. Like she had to tell him to stay away from a bunch of werewolf alphas.

With a deep, steadying breath, she turns around and goes after Jackson. Marcel hopes to all the gods out there that he's right about this one.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It has been a minute since Elijah last put his handyman skills to use. Centuries, in fact. He hates to admit it, but Camille might've been right with her  _ mend the home, mend the man _ approach to his situation. Elijah wanted to remain skeptical in the face of a psychology major, but, however unendurable the whole topic might be, the woman seems to know what she's talking about. Occasionally, at least.

After a few days of improvement, Elijah had another  _ episode _ when Eve pulled on a tablecloth and a knickknack fell on her. She had but a scratch on her forehead, but howled like someone had stabbed her. Her cry sent him straight back to that corridor, to the red door, and even though he managed to pull himself out of it, it was enough for Camille to notice.

There will come a day when Miss O'Connell will see something desperately broken and not try to fix it, but that day is not today, unfortunately.

"You've done enough work to face your atrocities, but the truth is, it's just going to take some time to settle," she said while he put a Band-Aid on his niece's forehead.

"And you believe you have the power to resolve this," he retorted, not as a question. The ironic  _ of course _ went unsaid. He doesn't mean to disrespect, he actually likes Camille, he knows she means well, it's just... She can be a lot. Especially when you spend days on end locked in a house in the middle of nowhere with her and a small child as sole companions.

"It's not that easy. I understand there's no," she snapped her fingers, "and you're fixed. In cases like yours, sometimes not dwelling on the problem is more productive than examining it through the minutiae of therapy. Staying mentally busy instead of physically." At this point, she produced a list of things in need of repair around the house. "Though charming, this house is falling apart," she said with a smile. When Elijah showed his skepticism over her logic, she went with the method she's been resorting to since day one. It hasn't failed yet. "Or we could go fishing and I could tell you all about the summer I lost my virginity."

"I'll fix the home," he replied instantly. It's interesting how she seems to have quickly identified that the most effective way to get Elijah to be more agreeable is to bother him into action. That's.. Quite the efficient strategy, actually.

So Camille went off to the nearest town to spend the day with Eve and replenish their pantry with some essentials while he spent the day not thinking - and fixing the heater. And the loose floorboards. And the leaking roof. And the broken fences around the property. And it was... Unexpectedly remedying.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have heeded Caroline's advice about appropriate attire, but all Niklaus brought him were suits. So here he is again, tieless and with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his 500-dollars shirt drenched in sweat after a whole day of manual chores, and Elijah feels perfectly blissful. Not at all bothered by his state of untidiness. He did what Camille told him: concentrated on the things he could fix, on the nails and the broken roof tiles and the clogged gutters, rather than think of his own much more complicated issues.

He has to say, it's been a rather gratifying time. Maybe he should go back to the old days of manual labor, rather than simply employing people to do absolutely everything for him. It's better than therapy. He doesn’t even have to talk.

Dusk is almost upon them when Elijah finally returns to the shed with his tools after he finished with the fences. The only thing left on his list is the heater. That's slightly more difficult and demands a somewhat more specialized knowledge, but he'll see what he can do. He's collecting the things he'll need to complete this next task when his phone rings. He'd left in his jacket at the shed, didn't even think about it. To think he went for an entire day not even remembering his phone's existence when he's been glued to it for the whole time he's been here... A miracle, indeed.

When he fishes the phone out, however, he sees there's been fifteen missed calls. All from Niklaus, who's calling him again now. This can't be a good thing.

The familiar bubble of apprehension returns with full force as he takes the call.

"Finn knows about Eve, about everything," his brother blurts out, his urgency patent even through the phone. "I don't know how long until he gets there, but he's already on his way."

As if on cue, Elijah sees a shadow approaching the shed's entrance. A second later and Finn is there, a malicious glint in his eyes and a triumphant smile crooking up his lips.

"Yes, remarkably well on his way, I would say," he speaks distractedly, putting the phone away. What a brilliant day he chose to disengage from the outside world...

Elijah does his best to keep the violent churn of concern inside of him from his features. All he can hope for is that Camille doesn't come home until he's done dispatching his psychotic older brother.

Finn's idea of greeting is to flick his wrist and send Elijah flying in the air, crashing against the tools on the back of the shed. He can feel the extra bite in his power, courtesy of his parents’ unwilling sacrifice.

"How d'you find me?" he asks from behind grit teeth as he pulls himself up.

Finn tilts his head noncomitantly. "Little help from our sister."

"Rebekah would never lower herself to wallow in your filth."

His smile turns cruel. "We have more than one, you know. And I get the sense she doesn't like you all that much."

Elijah's frown deepens as he considers his brother's words. The woman who freed Rebekah from her prison at the Fauline mansion springs to mind. He hadn't believed her tale, to be perfectly honest. Not that he thought Rebekah was lying, but it seemed highly unlikely that a sister they hadn't heard anything about for a thousand years would suddenly show up in New Orleans and introduce herself like that. It appears Rebekah wasn't the only one she got in touch with. "Freya?

"Mother warned me Dahlia would kill us all to acquire another first born Mikaelson," Finn says, slowly. "And me? I'm in no mood to die."

Elijah clenches his hands into fists, his expression tightening. "Cowering behind your witchcraft," he derides. "You always were pathetic, Finn."

"After nearly a millennium of dishonorable acts hidden away in your own mind, you have the audacity to call me names." He lets out a twisted bark of a laughter. "What I do now I do for the members of my family who can still be saved. Unfortunately, neither you nor Niklaus have made that list."

Finn waves a hand in the air, and Elijah is hit on the back by an axe, its blade buried deep between his shoulder blades. He gasps, trying to wrap a hand around the axe's handle to pull it out, but ends up losing his balance and falling on his knees. Finn strikes again, this time piercing his chest with the long handle of another tool. Elijah's eyes bulge in horror as he feels it has grazed his heart. His vision doubles and then darkens as he drops to the ground, blood running down the side of his lips.

All he has time to feel before death comes and sweeps him away is a sharp and cold wave of panic thrumming through him as it sinks in that Finn is here to kill his niece - and there'll be nothing he can do to stop him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kol's chanting gets louder and more intense the longer it goes on. He and Rebekah are holding hands, both touching the door to the tomb where Finn has hidden their parents. Klaus can sense  _ something _ is happening, though he has no idea whether it's a good thing or a bad one. This place in embedded in extremely strong magic all around. It's hard to tell if Kol's spell is working or simply being repelled.

The longer it goes on, however, the more restless Klaus becomes. Elijah hung up on him and hasn't answered when he called back. His cryptic message did not offer any relief to Klaus' mounting anxiety. His brother sounded rather calm and not at all like he'd been pulled out of a vicious battle with Finn, which means he hadn't yet arrived, but now...

They need this to work, and they need it to work  _ fast _ .

A minute later, both Kol and Rebekah are pushed back from the tomb's door as though they'd been repelled by an electric discharge. Blood runs down Kol's nose. "We're close," he says. "But we need something more, something to put on top for a final push."

"Use me," Klaus says, taking a step forward. Kol is momentarily taken aback, perhaps even a bit hesitant, afraid of the consequences. Not without reason, Klaus has to recognize. He hasn't been entirely forthcoming or cooperative with his younger brother, and completely unwilling to open up or offer candid replies to his obvious doubts, opting instead for a more violent approach. But this is no time for dwelling over matters of the past. They need to stop Finn  _ right now _ and if the price to keep his daughter safe is to grant Kol access to the deepest and darkest parts of his soul, so be it. Nothing else matters where Eve's life is concerned. "I am a vampire-werewolf hybrid with ten centuries of blood on my hands," he tells Kol. "Channel me."

"Nik," he starts, shaking his head. "This could be dangerous."

"You wanted my trust, brother. Here it is." He picks up the Tunde blade and forces it into Kol's hesitating hands. The best way to make sure he'll drain all of his power is to put him down the way Papa Tunde did to Rebekah. Kol is right, this could be incredibly dangerous. If anything goes wrong here, if Finn has been cleverer about this than they think, he might not wake up. Plus, he'll be entirely at Kol's mercy, as vulnerable as he's ever been. For once, however, Klaus is going to go with the blind faith path and trust his brother. "This is too important, Kol," he says, looking him dead in the eye. "Do not fail me."

He gets down on his knees before his brother, lifting Kol's hand so the blade is touching his forehead. When he closes his eyes, Kol begins to carve the mark that will send him under. The pain is almost as great as having the blade driven inside of him, a burning that starts on his head and radiates through his entire body as though his skull is about to burst.

A moment later, he's pulled into a torturing darkness that fills his lungs like water, an all too familiar despair taking hold of his entire being. This is what eternity will be like if Kol fails. So he cannot fail.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah comes to with a gasp. He's lying on the ground in the shed, his torso throbbing with a dull pain. He's no idea how long he was out for, but night hasn't fallen yet, so it can't have been that long.

As he pushes himself up, grinding his teeth against the ache, he hears his brother's voice filtering in from a distance.

"Where are you, Camille?! There's no use in hiding!"

The sound seems to be coming from the house. If he hasn't found Camille, maybe she hasn't come home yet.  _ Good _ . That buys him some time.

He pulls the makeshift stake from his stomach with a stifled groan, and then struggles to remove the axe from his back. He shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath as his body does its magic and takes away his wounds and the worst bits of the pain, healing seamlessly.

As he steps outside the shed, he tries to hear for any approaching cars, but as far as he can listen, there's nothing. It's all very quiet all around the property. He shouldn't assume she isn't near, though. Considering the hour, she is likely already on her way or about to return home. Less than twenty minutes to get rid of Finn, then, to be on the safe side.

Elijah grabs a knife from the shed and walks back to the house. He peeks from the window and sees his brother taking his time as he investigates items and rooms.

"I know you're in here, Camille!" he calls out as he picks up a cardigan she left on the back of a chair.

Elijah moves with usual stealth, and Finn doesn't even bat an eyelid as he enters the house. He waits for the right moment, aiming the knife at his distracted brother, and when he crosses the hallway ahead of Elijah, he throws it at him, aiming for Finn's heart. It doesn't matter if he can body jump. Right now, the most important thing is they need to make time for Eve to escape.

At the precise moment he threw his knife, however, Finn noticed his presence and turned. The knife pierced him just above the kidney line. Enough to cause some damage, certainly a lot of pain, but probably nothing deadly. Elijah curses lowly, preparing to flash away in search of another weapon, when he realizes there's something off with Finn.

He's gasping, the hand he used to pull the knife out of himself shaking so badly it falls off his fingers. A streak of blood runs down his nose as he clutches his head, his face scrunching up as though he's in an insane amount of pain, much more so than that wound could inflict. Elijah's eyebrows bunch in confusion, but he figures this is as good a time as any to make a move.

Finn puts a hand out and stops him, freezing his body in place. Grunting loudly, Finn starts to pull him closer like a puppeteer tugging on the strings of a marionette. Elijah tries his best to avoid being dragged, grabbing onto the furniture and walls, but the pull is simply too strong to resist. When he's close enough, Finn closes his fist and sends Elijah flying through the kitchen wall. The impact is stronger than any his brother had caused before, half the kitchen falling apart as he crashes into it.

Elijah's head is spinning as he tries to regain his breath. He struggles to push away debris and broken pieces of appliances and furniture in order to stand up, but then he notices the impact damaged a gas pipe, leaking gas directly into the house. An idea sparks to life... Quite literally.

As he makes to stand to his feet, however, Elijah notices the blood stains on his shirt. He touches it gingerly, and his hand comes back red. It instantly ignites a memory; images, both real and fabricated, flashing through his mind. The long corridor, a woman screaming, her blonde hair flying behind her as she runs as fast as she can from him. She runs into the red door, starts banging furiously, desperately, with her fists. When she turns her face around to him, she changes. No longer blonde, but brunette, dark brown eyes filled with terror.

A pained, miserable scream knifes through his memories, pulling him out of it. It's not the woman, though. It's Finn.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kol sits by himself in the tomb, watching as the color slowly creeps back to Nik's cheeks. Rebekah cut her hand and dripped some blood into their brother's mouth, trying to speed up the recovery process. She's been a victim of this spell before, so she knows exactly how brutal it is. He'll be alright, though.

Kol can hardly believe his crazy idea worked, to be honest. He was very determined, which is perhaps why he managed to pull it off, out of sheer willpower, but now that he thinks about it... It was a hell of a gamble.

Blood drips between his feet, and Kol wipes his nose. This spell demanded a lot more from him than he expected, even with the support of two Originals and a bunch of dark objects, including two of the strongest ones out there. He feels so depleted, the well of magic inside of him considerably weakened. He couldn't light up a candle now if he tried, kid's stuff. It's hard to tell whether that's because of the enchantment or a side effect of the hex Finn put on him. Kol might've just precipitated his own death, reducing his life expectancy by several crucial days. But what he saw in Nik's mind as he channeled him…

He was right. This was too important.

A niece... Who in the bloody hell would've ever thought?

Nik gasps awake, arching his back, his body convulsing lightly as he comes to. Kol helps him into a sitting position, his mighty hybrid brother holding on to him for dear life, with not even enough strength to get up on his own. This blade really is a nasty business.

"Tell me it worked," he croaks, his voice scratchy as his eyes search Kol's face expectantly.

"We did our bit, I promise," Kol tells him, his lips quirking up into a small grin. It feels good to be able to deliver some good news, especially now that he knows exactly what was at stake for his brother. "Finn is back to being a normal, regular-strength maniacal bastard."

Klaus lets out a deep, pained breath, relaxing against the stone wall behind him, his whole body sagging in relief. "Rebekah?"

"She stepped outside to ring Elijah."

Klaus is quiet for a moment before he turns back to Kol with such humble gratefulness on his face he’s momentarily taken aback. Kol can't remember when was the last time his brother felt this  _ warm _ towards him, if ever.

"I know we haven't always seen eye to eye over the course of the last millennium, Kol," Nik starts, his voice barely a rasp. "But in this moment, I am reminded once again of something Elijah always says. Family is power." He takes Kol's hand, clasps it between his own. "Thank you, brother."

Kol hangs his head low in a bashful gesture as he pets the back of Nik's hand with his free one. He doesn't even know what to say, to be honest. This kind of heartfelt gratefulness is not something anyone gets from Nik every day. "You're welcome," he replies awkwardly. "Now Elijah needs to do his part."

Klaus nods. "He will prevail. Of that I have no doubt."

Silence stretches between them as Nik continues to recover, his body healing more than just its flesh from the severe effects of the blade's power. That kind of dark magic penetrates deep, seeping into blood and bones, spreading like a disease, and it leaves a signature. Nik will certainly need to feed in order to replenish his energies. Kol considers offering his own blood to his brother - just a tiny bit, enough for him to feel better already so they can head home - but considering his own unfortunate condition... He should probably save his strength. Any tiny bit counts at this stage. One bite from Nik and he might lose whatever time he has left.

After a while, Kol decides they should probably address the elephant in the room while it's just the two of them. He doesn't want Nik getting all murderous in the next day or something when he realizes Kol knows more than he would've liked him to. It's not like he dove into his mind on purpose, it was just... Inevitable.

"While I tapped into your power," he starts slowly. "There were... Things. Strong thoughts and memories, I guess. They bled into me. I wasn't trying to pry or anything, I promise. It's kind of involuntary with the complete channeling that I did. And I saw it, Nik. Your secret." He waits a beat to see the reaction on his brother's face. When he doesn't turn green with anger, Kol plows on. "Your daughter. She's still alive. That's what this has all been about. You, Elijah, Caroline, Bex... All this time, you've been fighting to protect her, to keep mother from finding out she lived."

Klaus' head dips, a shadow crossing his eyes. "We didn't have a choice. We knew mother was controlling the witches, and that she wouldn't stop until my daughter was dead. So we had to make her believe that she was."

"I heard what happened the night she was born from mother. She told Finn and myself like it was nothing. Just an unfortunate casualty. But seeing it through your memories... The church..." Kol stops, swallows. The pain he felt inside of Klaus, the despair... He has seen and inflicted a great deal of pain in his life, but that… It was a lot. Even for someone as cold and cruel as Nik. Kol could feel every edge of his trauma, of his terror. It’s just as strong now as it was then. It gives him goosebumps. "It was bloody awful."

"The worst night of my entire life. My greatest shame. I couldn't save my daughter or her mother," Nik says in a small voice, his eyes faraway and sad. Vampires feel things in a much more acute manner. That kind of agony leaves scars that run much deeper than any flesh wounds. It'll resonate for years and years... Kol doubts Nik will ever forget it.

Not in a million years he ever thought he'd live to see the day Nik would care so profoundly about someone other than himself. Kol really did miss a lot in the time he spent dead. Seems like the world started spinning backwards. This Caroline Forbes must've been a hell of a witch, because she has pulled the greatest sorcery Kol's ever seen: she made Klaus Mikaelson grow a heart.

Kol places a hand on his brother's shoulder, gives him a comforting and honest squeeze. "No one should ever have to go through something like that. I'm sorry, Nik," he says. A million things pass between the two of them, and Kol doesn't think he's ever felt closer to his brother. It seems they're finally able to understand each other in some fundamental manner. Not all is forgotten and forgiven, but... It's a start.

Too bad they've only had this breakthrough when Kol is almost running out of time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah stares intently at his own hands. The more he scrubs them, the dirtier they seem to get. The blood only spreads, giving his skin an eerie crimson shade. Fitting, he thinks with a stab. If only his hands always looked like this, it would be a warning. A danger sign that would have people running off in fear, rather than being lulled by his carefully constructed pretense of chivalry and civility.

Finn hasn't come for him yet. How long has it been since he started scrubbing his hands? A minute? Ten? An hour? He can hear his brother scrambling in the hallway, his ragged, shuddery breath as he struggles to remain steady. Something's not right with him, and if Elijah could hazard a guess... He'd say Niklaus found a way to disrupt with his connection to his power source. It's causing him suffering, rather than make him feel invincible.

Elijah doesn't go to him, though. He keeps firmly staring at his own dirty hands, rubbing one against the other, waiting...

It's ages later that Finn finally enters the wrecked room. "Look at you, brother... You're a mess. And, as we both know, untidiness is your undoing," he speaks with feigned amusement. Even without looking, Elijah can sense he's weakened. His laborious breath gives him away despite his unshakable haughtiness. "Tell me, do your soiled clothes serve as a reminder of your filthy memories, your many sins? Are you having bad memories now, brother? Perhaps of the innocent Tatia? Or any one of the other poor souls who met their fate at your hands. That's a shame, really, because, in a way, the child is just another one of your victims. Had you the will to stand against me, you might have saved her, but because she was left under the protection of a wretch, a beast that basks in the blood of others, she will die. I suppose your little niece never really had a chance," Finn sniggers, like the thought of an innocent child meeting a terrible fate at the hands of her own family is  _ funny _ .

What has Esther done to him? Finn was always boring, arrogant and way too indoctrinated by their mother's beliefs, but Elijah doesn't remember him being this vile. Heartless. Esther ruined him beyond repair; in her vain attempt to  _ fix _ their morals, straighten their ways, she twisted and bent and brain-washed Finn until he became every bit the monster she accused her other children of being. He doesn't just want them dead; he wants to  _ torture _ them. To cause as much pain as he possibly can. To see them reduced to nothing. That's something not even Niklaus ever wished upon him. He kept Finn locked away in a coffin for 900 years but would never lay a finger to finish him off himself - and would fight anyone who tried.

Elijah might've even found it in him to feel sorry for Finn, to mourn his terrible descent into darkness, if only he wasn't here with the sole purpose of murdering Eve. That Elijah cannot forgive.

He catches the sound of a car fast approaching in the distance. It must be Camille. The car engine stops all of a sudden, though, and Elijah narrows his eyes, looking out the window. He can see the silver SUV parked a couple miles away on the dirt road leading to the house. He cannot wait for her to come any closer.

Well, it's time, then.

"I'd ask for a response," Finn continues as he remains quiet, still rubbing his hands together nonstop. "But I wouldn't want to taint myself with the vulgar refuse that must, even now, be flashing through you mind."

Elijah puts his hands down, standing to his feet at last. "Let me assure you, my mind is quite clear," he speaks slowly in a steady, clipped tone. "Much like the gas which has pervaded every single room in this home whilst you have been ranting like the lunatic that you are. You have disgraced this family for the last time."

He turns to his brother and sees shock and horror register on Finn’s widening eyes as he removes his daylight ring and stretches his arm out, letting the last dying rays of sunlight touch his skin like a thousand needles.

Elijah's lips tug upwards. "Goodbye brother," he says as he catches fire.

A second later, the whole house goes up in the air.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


	14. S02E14 I Love You, Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I have high hopes for this chapter. It's probably one of my favorites, and although it has some major character moments individually, it's also a BIG one for KC. They've come a long way since the beginning of The Wolf I and this is a bit like... Reaching something. So I'm not kidding when I say I really, REALLY hope you guys enjoy it. And if you do, getting on your thoughts on it would mean the world to me! :)
> 
> Special thanks here goes for **recyclings** , who's the only person to have read this beforehand and who gave me AMAZING feedback on this chapter. I cannot thank her enough! ❤

* * *

_I want you_  
_Yeah I want you_  
_Cause nothing comes close_  
_To the way that I need you_  
_I wish I could feel your skin_  
_And I want you_  
_From somewhere within_

* * *

The simmering tension Caroline is radiating in waves hits Klaus like a punch before he even enters her bedroom.

All through the night she was a bundle of nerves, clutching her phone like a lifeline as she paced up and down the compound nonstop. Neither Camille nor Elijah were answering their mobiles and the complete radio silence from Arkansas drove both of them out of their minds with worry. The difference was that, while Caroline was an overheated pressure cooker, steam coming out of ears and all, Klaus still felt awfully lacking in the energy department after his latest stint under Tunde's blade of horrors' ministrations. He'd forgotten how much of a pain it is just to recover from it.

The only thing bringing Klaus a measure of comfort was that Finn wasn’t taking any calls either. His arrogant brother never passes on a chance to gloat. He would've found a way to let them know if he'd taken down Elijah and captured Eve.

Rebekah stayed behind at the cemetery, guarding the entrance to the tomb where Esther and Mikael's desiccated bodies still lie, and he hasn't shown his face there either. If Kol's spell worked, and it seems as though it did, then he's no longer channeling their power. Certainly he would've returned to fix it.

That flimsy thread of hope kept Caroline from taking the car and driving to the safe house in the middle of the night, but there was not a second of reprieve. When the sun was almost up and Klaus had run out of arguments to hold her back, the phone finally rang. It was Camille, from Elijah's number. Everyone was fine, except for Vincent Griffith and the safe house, both blown up to pieces when Elijah lit himself up in the middle of a gas leak.

"You did what?!" Caroline yelled at the phone, all hot anger and disbelief.

"It was the only way," Elijah replied, sounding rather calm for someone who'd just escaped from an explosion with missing parts that had to regrow.

"Blowing up a house with a baby nearby can't be _the only way_ , Elijah!" she objected, fire licking her with indignation. Klaus has been on the receiving end of that tone several times, but he doesn't think he's ever heard her speak to Elijah the same way.

"Not that I'm condoning the massive explosion," Camille cut in, and Klaus could almost imagine the look she was sending his brother then. "But we weren't there yet."

"It doesn't matter!" Caroline slammed back. "You could've been! There's no way he would know with the house falling apart around him. Klaus went under that freaking blade -"

"Language," Elijah said. "There's a baby in the car."

Caroline's face was red with rage. She drew in a sharp breath, ready to shoot slings and arrows at Elijah and turn that phone call into an endless argument. So Klaus stepped in, putting a hand on Caroline's shoulder.

"All right, love, that's enough." She turned her death glare on him, but Klaus simply ignored it. "Elijah's poor decision doesn't matter anymore. Let's focus on the problems ahead of us."

Just as they wasted precious time arguing over the phone, Finn was likely waking up in someone else's body somewhere in New Orleans. They'd narrowly escaped this attack and the next one would come swinging out of nowhere. The swell of relief over learning everyone made it out of the safe house unscathed was short lived. Finn lost the battle, but the war still raged on and now their deranged older brother had gained an invaluable advantage: anonymity. He could be anyone, anywhere. Which meant nowhere was safe anymore.

If there was one thing that insane string of events did, was convince Klaus that Caroline and Jackson need to complete that bloody ritual of theirs as soon as possible. In fact, the ceremony has to happen _today_. They'll be gaining an army at the same time his brother will lose one. Klaus is far from enthusiastic about this whole demented idea, but if there was ever a time to leave his petty objections behind, it's now.

It just so happens that, all of a sudden, Caroline seems to have other plans.

While Klaus took the reins of her not-wedding, hiring help, food, booze and whatever else the circumstance warrants in order to please those damned Crescents with an efficiency he quite frankly begrudges, she started to pack up.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Elijah said they're near Louisiana, so I'm gonna go to them and I'm gonna get my daughter," Caroline grumbles whilst throwing random items into a travel bag. Klaus opens his mouth to offer a perfectly reasonable objection, but she continues, "Do _not_ tell me that it's not safe. I'll tell you what it's not safe." She whirls around at her, her blue eyes ablaze. "Blowing up a whole freaking house with a baby in the vicinity to keep your evil bloody brother from finding her!"

"We will deal with Finn," he offers calmly.

"And then what?! Every time you kill him, he's just gonna jump into another body. Already he's walking around the city looking like someone else. He could be _anyone_. One of the staff you hired, for instance."

"I highly doubt Finn would walk in here as part of the help and waste his time decorating the courtyard for a party."

"That's not the point!"

"Caroline, we tried running. We tried hiding. Neither will work."

"So what's your bright idea?!"

"As it happens, I'm working on a plan as we speak, one which will be bolstered greatly if you just calm down and keep your eye on the prize."

Caroline swells with irritation. "Do _not_ manage me, Klaus,” she seethes. “I have _every_ right -"

"You have a ceremony to attend today," he cuts her off by raising the tone of his voice over her bitter protests. Klaus feels terribly inadequate with this unexpected role reversal. He thought hell would freeze over before he found himself convincing Caroline to stay _calm_ and walk down a makeshift aisle, even if not a matrimonial one, beside Jackson bloody Kenner. But such is the dreadful state of things. Despair, thy name is Niklaus. "An act which will seal the loyalty of all the wolves that answer to Finn. You will be queen to an army." Klaus takes the bag away from her hands. Grudgingly, she lets him, folding her arms across her chest, her nostrils flaring. "And a queen does not run."

Caroline skewers him with a dark, burning look, but huffs out what he decides to take as reluctant agreement.

Tonight, with the help of Kol and Rebekah and a horde of wolves, this compound will be the safest place to be in the entire world. Caroline might be mad now, ridden with worry, but she's not unreasonable. She'll come to her senses and realize he's right - even if he terribly wishes he wasn't. He’s also prepared a little surprise to lift up her spirits and give her some much needed encouragement.

Tomorrow may bring apocalypse upon their door. But tonight shall be a fine, uneventful night, even if he is forced to tolerate the intolerable. Klaus will make certain of that.

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From wanting to throw everything away and run after her daughter to being completely disgruntled for not having anything to wear in the space of an hour. This is how crazy Caroline's last 24 hours have been. And the next 24 promise to be even more of a rollercoaster.

She's still not entirely convinced that moving forward with the ceremony now is the best option, especially when Elijah is on the run with her baby, with no idea where to go or what to do to keep off Finn's radar. But Klaus' sudden bout of reason has gotten through to her, if anything than simply because it's so unexpected. He must be truly desperate if he's the one pushing for her to do it now. Either that, or he's become thoroughly convinced that this ritual is what is going to guarantee them the safety they've been pursuing for... Hell, since her very first _second_ in this godforsaken town. And if Klaus can be convinced of that... Well, count Caroline as a believer as well.

The problem is - Klaus decided he wants to welcome the werewolves into their home by throwing a _huge_ party. There are _dozens_ of people downstairs getting the place ready for tonight. Caroline has no idea where he got all of that from. It's amazing how resourceful Mikaelsons can be when it comes to throwing a bash. Except it had never crossed Caroline's mind that they would be making a big _thing_ out of this. She thought the ritual would be conducted in the middle of the Bayou and the wolves would roast a pig to celebrate it later. What Klaus is doing is a _slight_ notch above that.

On top of all the obvious implications, she _doesn't have anything to wear_ to her own suddenly fancy binding ceremony.

What is a person even supposed to wear to that?

Long, lacy and white, is what her mind keeps bringing up. She’s deleted from her memory that this was originally supposed to be a matrimonial service because she doesn't want to see things that way, but, honestly... Klaus is not helping _at all_ . They're hanging _fairy lights_ all over the courtyard, for God's sake. There are _flowers_. If this is his way of saying he's changed his mind and wants to give her hand in marriage to Jackson after all, he needs to work on his subtlety.

Caroline blows out in frustration as she finishes flipping through the dresses in her closet. She hasn't been out shopping in forever and it shows. There's nothing even remotely appropriate for the occasion and the nicest thing she has is black. _Black_. Caroline used to never wear black, her closet in Mystic Falls was full of color, and now it seems like that's all she wears, all the time. Something tells her she should probably stir away from looking like she's in mourning while sealing a deal with moody wolves.

"All right. Bad news first." Caroline arches her eyebrows as Rebekah appears on the door, an apologetic little smile on her face. "I'll have to miss your ceremony. Kol has a bit of a life-and-death matter and he needs help dealing with."

Her brow bunches lightly. "Kol is supposed to _be_ at the ceremony."

"Do not fret. He'll be there. But while he does that, there's something I have to do for him."

"Anything I can help with?"

"It's witchy stuff," Rebekah says, waving her hand dismissively.

The blow still lands. Caroline faces away, looking back at her dresses. "Right. Not my thing anymore."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't. My nerves are all over the freaking place today. I miss having a regular person's emotional control."

"Well... I have something that might cheer you up, then."

Rebekah finally steps into the room, revealing the thing she had been holding out of view: a beautiful light pink evening dress that looks like it was sewn by angels. Caroline's mouth drops as she sets eyes on it: irregular cut, _gorgeous_ drapery work, a neckline that shows _just_ the right amount of cleavage to be flattering, neither too revealing nor entirely PG-13. It's just... Perfect.

"What is that?" she asks once she finds her voice again. By the triumphant look on Rebekah's face, she knows her reaction is exactly what she was going for. Caroline has always been a sucker for a beautiful evening dress.

" _That_ is your gown for tonight, of course. I thought white was a bit too much, so I had to go through my closet after something that didn't scream _wedding_ or _sexy widow_. Just realized I'm thoroughly lacking on the in-between."

"That's... I don't... Rebekah, this is... _Gorgeous_ ." Her hands are just _itching_ to reach for the dress, but Caroline resists the urge. It's a true ball gown, and a completely spectacular one at that. She would've died for a dress like that to wear for the Miss Mystic pageant, or even prom. It just seems like a lot for tonight's ceremony. "I'm not sure... I mean, it's..." she stammers a little. "Too much."

Rebekah rolls her eyes at her, shoving the dress into Caroline's hands. _It’s so soft..._ "Are you saying that because you think it's too much or because you're afraid of what my brother will say?" Caroline clamps her mouth shut. _Touché_. "Right. Well, the Caroline Forbes I once knew and loathed would never forgive me if I allowed her to do this thing in skinny jeans and boots, so there."

Caroline chuckles as she holds the dress in front of her body in the mirror. "I seem to have completely forsaken cuteness and trend in the name of convenience when making my wardrobe for running for my life every other day. It's all dark and dreary colors now."

"Well, dark colors do make it rather easier to conceal the blood stains, but make for awful gowns for celebratory evenings."

"Thank God I have you as my fairy godmother. This is _perfect_." Caroline puts the dress on her bed and turns back to Rebekah. "I should go rifling through your closet more often."

"Not if you value those pretty little fingers of yours," Rebekah says with a smile, showing her perfectly normal witch teeth with the same level of menace she would as a vampire. She already owns this body as though it had always been hers. Caroline doesn't know why she's so surprised.

The mood shifts then, and Rebekah's expression smooths into something softer as she takes a step closer, a sudden glimmer of tenderness in her eyes. "I just wanted to say… I know you're becoming an honorary part of the Crescents today, but you're still one of us. A Mikaelson. You always will be."

Caroline's lips curl into a genuine and affectionate smile, her chest filled with warmth for this girl who, not two years ago, was her own personal nemesis. They've really come such a long way. "That would be such a great compliment if it didn't link me to so many homicidal lunatics."

Rebekah chuckles and then turns around to leave.

"Rebekah," Caroline calls. The other woman swirls around to her by the door. "I didn't thank you for everything you did for my daughter for the past six months and... Now," she motions towards Rebekah. Despite how comfortable she seems to be in her new body, it's still not hers. She went through hell for an entire week because of Kol's little prank. And all because of Eve. "I could never repay you."

"Don't thank me, love. The months I spent with your little one were some of the best I've ever had in my entire life. It was lovely and I'm very grateful that you would trust me with the most precious thing in the world to you."

"I never doubted for a second that she'd be in good hands. That was maybe the only part about that whole mess that I was ok with. You're family."

Rebekah fixes her with a broad, open smile, warmth shimmering bright in her eyes.

"Good luck today," Rebekah says. "Look gorgeous. And have someone snap photos of Nik's sullen pout for me, please."

Caroline laughs as Rebekah leaves to go take care of her witchy business, then immediately whips around to look at her dress. Oh, the powers of the perfect gown...

Suddenly, she is conservatively excited about getting ready for this thing.

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Klaus is completely out of control.

Caroline knew he'd gotten a bit out of hand with the party preparations, but now that she's come out of her room for the first time in hours, she realizes she had no idea just how blown out of proportions the whole thing is.

She's taking a walk with Jackson to inspect the ballroom, where the ceremony will be taking place, see if everything is up to werewolf standards, and she is just as taken aback as he is, if not more. Clearly no one was expecting such a lavish event. People are hanging silky ceiling-to-floor drapes all over the place, adding a few chandeliers and flower arrangements. Chairs are being disposed to accommodate all the guests and what looks an awful lot like a makeshift altar is being set up on the mezzanine, so everyone will be able to see them.

It looks an awkward lot like someone's going to get married here.

"I so do not belong in your world," Jackson remarks as he sees people walking by with yet more fairy lights to hang outside.

"Well... This used to be my world, not gonna lie. Not anymore, though. I wasn't consulted about any of this. If I had been, I would've definitely not chosen _beige_ as the main color on the decor. Or those chandeliers. Or - is that a wedding cake?"

"For someone who almost beat the life out of me for thinking I was going to marry you, Klaus has certainly gotten a little carried away, huh?"

"Nonsense," Klaus cuts in, stepping into the ballroom with a skip in his step, carrying a bag in his hands. Caroline's bag. The one she had been filling with her clothes as she prepared to take off just this morning. "This is exactly appropriate to meet the opulence of the evening."

"You ordered a wedding cake," she remarks drily.

"It's not a wedding cake, it's just a rather large cake. We'll have many mouths to feed."

"It's _white_ , Klaus."

"It's elegant," he counters noncomitantly. "You see, for centuries the Mikaelsons have been throwing some of the most memorable and lavish parties New Orleans has ever seen. I can't have a celebration under my roof and let it be anything less than perfect. We have a reputation to uphold. Besides, we need a glorified show of strength tonight. This is exactly what we're having."

Caroline sighs. Even her werewolf ritual is an excuse for Klaus to flaunt his snob preferences about. It's almost like it's stronger than him. He can't control the fact she's binding herself to the Crescents, so he's going to make the event _his_. His home, his tastes, his standards. It’s suddenly less of a Crescent thing and more of a Klaus one. How so very Mikaelson of him.

"I love parties and social gatherings and I haven't been to one in ages and yet, somehow, you make me wanna roll my eyes." She straightens her posture, frowning as she catches a whiff in the air. The familiar, tempting smell of blood fills her nostrils. Not exactly fresh, but... She doesn't have to search a lot to realize where it's coming from. "Is that blood dripping from _my bag_?"

Klaus' lips crack into a wide smile. "I come bearing gifts." He tosses the bag at Jackson’s feet. It falls with a thud, a rather _heavy_ one.

Jackson glowers. "What the hell did you do?"

"A favor. I removed the heads of the wolf leaders who refused to relinquish Finn's moonlight rings."

"You did _what_?!" Caroline demands, her voice going an octave higher.

Jackson blinks at him, his lips parted in an incredulous gape. "You brought me a bag of werewolf heads?"

"Well, I had hoped you'd see it as a demonstration of good faith. A ritual present, if you will," Klaus says, totally unrepentant, punctuating his sentence with a grin. "Besides, I can't have witch sympathizers in my army."

Caroline senses Jackson bristling next to her. "The wolves are not now nor will ever be _your_ army," he fires back.

Klaus regards Jackson studiously before taking a step forward, hands clasped behind his back. "You know, you are a brave and selfless leader, Jackson. And I'm positive you'll remain so for the entire duration of your reign." Caroline's brow creases; something about the way he said that did not rub her right. Klaus shrugs nonchalantly and plows on. "I was merely doing you a favor. Now you won't have to hunt them down yourself, or deal with future uprisings and be forced to liquidate your own kind with the new shiny teeth you'll be awarded after you _bond_ with Caroline." The emphasis comes drenched in venom, and Caroline fixes him with a pointed look. "You are welcome. By the way, I expect you will clean yourself up for the ceremony. It's a Mikaelson party, for God's sake, look the part." Klaus smiles cheekily at them as he begins to turn, motioning towards the courtyard. "Caroline, love, if I may intrude -"

"Oh, you mean this wasn't you intruding?"

"My gift for you is waiting to say hello outside."

When he turns around to leave, Caroline exchanges a contrite look with Jackson. "I'm sorry Jackson, I had no idea."

He seems thoughtful for a moment. "Am I crazy or did he just do his version of a nice thing?"

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It takes Caroline a moment too long to follow him outside, but she does, with Jackson right beside her. Klaus swallows back a grunt.

He is determined not to let jealousy get the best of him. Not yet, anyway. The little tolerance he's managed to build for the occasion out of sheer necessity will have to be saved for the actual ceremony. He's throwing them this travesty of a party with a sense of irony. The Crescents should know who they're really getting in bed with. Hint: it's not the pretty sunshine blonde.

This is his turf. His rules. His party. Not theirs. It's bad enough that he has to let it happen; it'll be over his dead body that he'll let her join forces with that swamp pet in a traditional werewolf celebration, with pig roasting and accordions.

When Caroline finally joins him in the courtyard, Elijah and Camille, carrying Eve in her arms, walk out.

Caroline's eyes bulge almost comically. She lays a hand on her chest, her jaw dropping. "You brought them here? This is insane, Klaus. Finn could be anywhere!”

"I've taken precautions," he offers soothingly. "There will be no uninvited guests at the ceremony and, after, the pack will be the first line of defense to this home. This is the safest place for her tonight." He leans over, whispering close to her ear in a silky tune. "No more running, queen."

Caroline meets his gaze, relaxing at last. She puts a hand on his arm, giving him an appreciative squeeze, a smile like sunlight breaking through her doubts as she makes a beeline to Camille. Elijah exchanges a glance with him, an approving expression on his face as he nods his head.

The sound of Eve's cheerful laughter snaps his attention back to her, their little girl bursting into giggles as Caroline takes her from Cami. He cannot help the smile that tugs at his lips, warmth rekindling in his stomach. The utter joy of seeing those two reunited once more is enough for Klaus to convince himself this is all worth it. Enduring Jackson's presence, throwing a party to celebrate something he absolutely abhors - it's the price he has to pay to have his family here, with him, in their rightful home. And anyway, everything going to plan, this torment won't last long.

Which is not to say that it isn't quite tortuous having to put up with it for the time being, of course.

Caroline walks over to the Crescent's alpha with their baby, bursting with pride. "Jack... This is Eve," she says, rocking the baby lightly. Jackson puts his hand forward and Eve wraps her tiny little fingers around his, giggling again. Everyone melts into merry-eyed laughter while Klaus gets the fire of a thousand phoenixes burning inside of him.

That's as much as he can stomach for now. While everyone rejoices, Klaus storms off. He doubts his absence will be noticed.

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Well, that was too good to be entirely honest, Elijah thinks as he watches Niklaus stomp off with a scowl on his face.

Why would his brother ever be contented with things going his way for once and everyone being safe and moderately elated if he can find fault in everything and mope around instead?

While Caroline introduces Eve to Jackson - the man who'll be ahead of the army in charge of protecting her, which makes it only natural that he should meet the little girl - Elijah follows his brother's sullen shadow up the stairs, to the study room. He finds Niklaus knocking back a glass of bourbon and immediately pouring a second one.

"I believed you were being genuine downstairs with that speech about not running," he remarks. "Almost thought you were glad that Caroline is helping Jackson take control of the wolves back from our brother in such a delicate time. And, you know... Happy to have your daughter home."

"I'm overjoyed," he replies, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I just don't fancy the idea of her attaching herself to Jackson of the boozy backwater Kenners in any way, shape or form." Niklaus chugs back another glass, then turns to Elijah, bitterness written across the downward curve of his mouth.

"It could be worse. She could be marrying him," Elijah offers by means of perspective.

Niklaus clicks his tongue in disgust. "You can't tell me this doesn't bother you as well. I know it does."

"We all have our duties to this family, Niklaus," he speaks around an exhale. "As do I, so does Caroline. This is the part she has to play to assure the safe return of your daughter to this home. She will never be happy as long as Eve has to be kept away from her, and I believe you want her happiness. So I trust you'll do nothing to dissuade her from going through with it."

Niklaus' eyes flash. "If Kol keeps his word, we shouldn't have a problem," he says, before turning away to fill his third glass.

For some reason, his demeanor offers very little reassurance to Elijah. Just to be on the safe side, he makes a point of keeping an eye on his brother for the rest of the night.

If he wasn't so genuinely concerned over the machinations in Niklaus' mind now, he would probably be glad to slide back into their usual roles: Niklaus as the temperamental, impulsive brother in need of curbing, and him as the ever-exhausted babysitter watching over him.

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Caroline puts down her brush and takes a step back to admire the final product on the full-length mirror.

Well... Not bad. Not bad at all.

She turns to one side, then to the other, her dress twirling around with a beautiful flow as she does so. The hair took her _ages_ to get done - mainly because she would stop every two minutes to gush over every tiny impossibly adorable thing her baby did - but it was worth the effort. The high heeled Valentino's she snatched from Rebekah's closet goes seamlessly with the gown as well.

It’d been a minute since she'd dressed up like this. She almost doesn't recognize herself. Or rather, she does, but the old Caroline, the one who died at the church. The cheerleading captain, head of a dozen different school committees, before the pregnancy and Klaus and New Orleans. The Caroline who would've gladly gotten into a fist fight for a dress like this. That person feels like a lifetime ago now. These days, she spends more time roaming about the swamp or cemeteries than she does at fancy parties.

Caroline looks in the mirror and sees her old self staring back at her, shining through the layers of bloodlust and grief and violence that have surrounded her like a second skin since that awful night last spring. Her daughter's birthday. For the first time, she smiles despite the prickle of unrest that those memories bring. It's good to know she hasn't lost her touch. Caroline Forbes can still rock a ball gown, thank you very much.

It's a good thing she loves this outfit so much, because she's still not entirely comfortable with how excessive everything is outside. Klaus really did go out of his way to throw a _Mikaelson approved bash_. She peeked out a while back and saw some of the guests had already arrived. Everyone looks incredibly fancy. If she didn't know better, she'd think Elijah added a note about the dress code to the invitation. Even the werewolves have suited up.

It's safe to say this is nothing like she thought this ceremony would go. The more she thinks about it, the more nervous she becomes. It's completely possible that she's over fixating on the grandeur of the celebration when, in fact, it's the commitment she's about to make that has been getting her all jittery, but that's beside the point. The dress is her tranquilizer. Two years ago, Caroline would be right in her element as the center of attentions in a party like that; that's the spirit she aims to channel here.

Eve makes one of her little excited sounds and Caroline snaps out of her self-flattering moment, instantly drawn back to her daughter. This is why she can no longer be completely in touch with her old self, and why she never will, ever again. That Caroline didn't know what it was like to have her whole world narrowed down to a tiny little human being that melts her heart just by existing. She regrets nothing.

Caroline kneels down next to the comforter she threw on the carpet for Eve to play with her little toys while she got dressed, a smile as big as the world curving her lips as she watches in awe as the baby bites on the head of her favorite plush bunny.

"I still can't believe that you're here," she murmurs, laughing as Eve yelps before throwing the bunny away, only to pick it up again and go back to biting. She baked one hell of a cute baby. "Mommy has to go and do this big thing, but don't you worry," she continues, caressing Eve's head, brushing the little hair she has to the side. "Cami will be here watching you, then I'll be back to tuck you in. And then I'm not letting you out of my sight, ever again."

There's a soft knock on the door, and she turns to see Klaus there, looking as dapper as it gets in a dark suit. He even shaved and combed his hair differently for the occasion. There's absolutely nothing over the top about his attire tonight - none of the flamboyant ties or the patterned velvet jackets he fancies so much. It's just a perfectly aligned, elegant suit, with a touch of vintage on how the buttons on his jacket close. Elijah would be proud. He looks drop dead gorgeous. Suddenly Caroline doesn't feel that overdressed anymore.

She stands up, turning around so he can have a look at her dress. "So? Am I up to your Mikaelson-standard of fancy?"

The look on his face is positively reverent. "You look stunning,” he replies, without a hint of affectation, the intensity in his gaze suddenly piercing.

Caroline smiles, the blood she snacked on just an hour ago rising in her cheeks as she pulls bashfully on her skirt. "When Rebekah gave this to me, I thought it would be too much, but seeing the arrangements you made downstairs and, well, _you_.. Maybe not."

"It's perfect," he says, stepping into the room, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her form. "Perhaps too perfect. I've got half the mind to let the Viking in me take over, hoist you up on my shoulder and carry you away before you can walk down an aisle next to Jackson bloody Kenner."

Caroline chuckles. "What was it that you said about not running anymore?"

"Caught in my own traps," he says, shaking his head in mock-dismay. "I take it back."

She walks up to him, flings her arms around his neck and places a tender kiss on his lips. "You're more nervous than I am."

Klaus locks his eyes into hers, hands closing possessively around her waist. "I told you you had to keep your eyes on the prize because that's exactly what I'm doing. This union will be hugely beneficial to our cause. To our daughter. And to our family. But don't think for a second that I'm happy about it. My compliance comes merely from understanding that, given the current state of affairs, this is a necessary evil."

Caroline huffs softly. "Evil? So dramatic..."

Klaus is quiet for a moment, a shadow crossing his face. "Before I understood what this was all about, when I still thought you would be wedded to Jackson," his voice tightens noticeably just mentioning it. "I had a conversation with Elijah and he told me I had two choices. I could either accept that you were doing this selflessly, sacrificing your freedom for a political arrangement thinking of the greater good, for our daughter, and let you go... Or I could fight for you. When you were living with the werewolves last year, I talked myself out of forcing or pressuring you into returning to our home. I decided to let you follow your heart, make your own choices and live whatever life made you happier. Even at the time I realized there was an inherent danger in my decision, seeing the enamored way Jackson's eyes glowed when you were around. But all I wanted was for you to be happy, even if it was not with me." Caroline sighs, turning her face away, but Klaus puts a hand under her chin, forcing her back. "I see now that I was wrong. I wouldn't have let you go. I couldn't. There was ever only one choice for me. I would've fought for you then. I would fight for you now. And I will fight for you for as long as eternity lasts. My love for you has no edges, Caroline. It's deeper than the ocean, as endless as the sky. I always knew you were meant for great thing, but now I know that you are a _true_ queen. I may not like the way this is being done, but I couldn't be prouder."

Caroline's heart lurches, a warm and luminous feeling spreading through her entire being. There's a depth of emotion in Klaus' voice that she doesn't think she's ever heard before, doesn’t really know how to handle. His words connect to a cord deep within her; it's everything she spent her whole life waiting to hear, the kind of feeling she always wanted to experience. It sends a tingle up her spine, fills her to burst with a sort of happiness that is hard to explain. Klaus can certainly be a lot. He has a taste for wielding his exuberance like a shield, deflecting attention from his real feelings. But then there are those other times, more intimate and precious, when he's so open and honest it almost hurts to look at him. It's in those times that Caroline realizes there was no way she could've ever not have fallen for him.

In all truth, she spent so much of her life being told that she wasn't enough - not to her father, not to the boys she fell in love with, not even to the ones she had a mild crush on - that it's sometimes still hard to understand why her. What is it that Klaus sees that no one else ever did? It's hard to grasp how a being as old as him could ever fall so deeply for someone like her, a girl from a small town who's never been anywhere, seen anything. But in Klaus' eyes, in the way he looks at her with such admiration and devotion, Caroline finds the very best bits of herself. Her courage. Her strength. An unyielding belief that there isn't a thing in this world she can't do.

She beams at him, that thousand-watts smile that lights up her whole body. Klaus' blue eyes soften, crystal clear even in the low light of her bedroom. She draws him closer still, pressing her body flush against his, feathering her fingers through the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

"Keep saying things like that and you will have no competition," she whispers against his mouth before pressing her lips to his in a deep, languorous kiss. She'll have to touch up her makeup, but who cares. The way she feels right now, Caroline will wear a smudged lipstick as a badge of honor.

After a moment, however, he pulls apart, a dimpled smile on his face. "I brought you a gift."

"No more bloody heads, please.”

Klaus chuckles as he disengages from their embrace so he can retrieve a little box from his pocket. "No. This is more delicate." He opens the box, turning it to her to reveal a silver necklace with a beautiful green stone on a half-moon pendant. "In werewolf tradition, they are assigned a mineral totem when they're born, depending on the moon they're born under. I did my research. You and I were born under the same planting moon, so this is mine, and it’s also yours. A moss agate. It symbolizes healing and courage. I suppose it doesn’t say much about me, not anymore, but considering what you're about to do tonight, and everything you've been through, I thought it was rather fitting."

Caroline lets her fingers hover over the pendant, admiring the delicate beauty of it. "I don't know what to say. This is beautiful."

"May I?"

She turns around, holding her hair so he can put the necklace on her. She sucks in a breath when he presses closer than strictly necessary, his fingers dancing gingerly over her skin. "When you go out tonight,” he whispers, “before a sea of fascinated new subjects with sheer adoration in their eyes for their new beautiful, brilliant ruler, I want you to remember that no one loves you more than I do."

She meets his gaze through the mirror as she admires the necklace. His silk voice thrums through her like energy, the gleam in his eyes striking in its vividness and beauty.

Klaus places a tender kiss on her cheek, and she turns around, not stepping an inch away, looking at him closely.

"From the very first day I met you, you have made me feel... _everything_ for you. I went through the whole range, but it was always with a burning passion. I never knew how to be indifferent, even when I wanted nothing more than to rip off your head. And now I can't imagine my life without you." She lifts a hand, touching his cheek. "You have turned my world upside down, Klaus Mikaelson, and I swear to God I don’t know what to do with you sometimes, but… Whenever I think of my life now, my future, the place where I want to be, always, where I feel safe and wanted and understood, where I am the happiest I can possibly be... It’s by your side. I can't imagine ever loving anyone the way I love you." Klaus' eyes look like embers in the dim light, lips curling into a smile so genuine and adorable Caroline can't help kissing him again. When she pulls away, she keeps their foreheads together. "I am doing this to help free the wolves from your tyrannical brother, yes. But I'm also doing this for us. So that we can be together as a family, the three of us. That was my wish when I burned that polaroid we took. It's what I'll be thinking about during the ceremony."

The space between them feels open and honest, not a hint of pretense or hesitation to taint it. Klaus looks at her with soul-baring earnestness, and then he takes her mouth in a plundering kiss. It's slow and deep, devoid of his usual urgency and hunger, but possessive nonetheless. It's lust and fire, underlined by something sweeter, tender. Caroline melts into his arms, exploding with bliss and joy and, because it's impossible not do, desire when Klaus' tongue dances against her own. She lets him have her, all of her, lets him know that she is his, her soul as well as body, her eternity as well as her present.

"Hey, Caroline! Sorry I'm late, I - _oh crap_ ," Cami exclaims, halting by the door with an embarrassed look on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's ok," she says, pulling away from Klaus at last. Caroline sees her own contentment drawn on every line of Klaus’ face and exchanges a short smile with him while she tries to fix the mess her lipstick must’ve made of her makeup. Good thing she didn't go with red. "We were just... Talking. You're not interrupting. Anyway, I need to get ready."

Cami gives her a once over, her lips parting in awe. "God, Caroline... You look a billion dollars."

"I think I've cleaned up well after myself, too, thank you," Klaus says as he picks up Eve in his arms, the baby fussing a little after her bunny until Klaus gives it to her.

"Fishing for compliments, Klaus?" Camille teases. "How so very beneath you."

"Well, if no one will pay me a compliment, I must do it myself. Isn't that right, littlest wolf?" He kisses the top of Eve's head before handing her over to Caroline. "Seeing as I'm clearly persona non grata, I have business to attend downstairs. If you'll excuse me."

He exchanges a final look with Caroline, his hand brushing her arm lightly before he goes. The silly smile on her face is still firmly in place.

After he leaves, Cami turns to Caroline with a cocked eyebrow. "His insecurity is kind of showing."

"Trust me, he knows he has no reason for that. I think he just can't stand that you don't like him."

"Well, maybe he shouldn't compel people to act as his personal spies at the expense of their own private lives if he doesn't want to be judged on that."

“You are absolutely right,” she says. “Thank you so, so much for doing this, Cami. Again."

"Are you kidding? I would _pay_ to watch your kid. She's _adorable_. Plus, it's not entirely selfless of me. I'm a little freaked out over Finn."

"Don't worry. You're welcome to stay with us for as long as you want."

Cami smiles gratefully at her, sticking out her arms to take Eve. Caroline smacks a kiss on her baby's cheek. Her heart aches already just letting go of her. Every minute she spends away from Eve feels like a waste of precious time after she was forced to pretend her daughter was dead for the first six months of her life. That’s a lot of firsts she missed out on that she’ll never get back. But this is for a good cause, Caroline reminds herself. It’s one busy night so that she can have every other night of her life with her daughter. It'll be worth it.

"Your not-fiancé is looking _hot_ , by the way. Just saw him downstairs," Cami remarks while Caroline fixes her makeup.

"Just tell me he's not wearing a flannel tux. Elijah's gonna have him arrested."

"Nope. Regular suit. _Very_ on point. Are you sure you don't want to marry him?"

Caroline smiles. "Never been surer in my life. But hey - when tonight's over, Jackson will still be single," she winks at her friend, blowing a kiss at Eve before she walks out of the room.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The coughing fits are the worst.

Every time Kol coughs, he feels like he's losing a portion of his soul. It doesn't go away until his throat is raw and his mouth tastes of copper. That's by far the worst part of his human experience: the fragility. As a vampire, he never truly stopped to think about how hardworking and resilient a normal person has to be just to stay alive. The tiniest of things, a chemical imbalance, a little bump on the wrong part of their heads, and _poof_ , they're gone.

Dying of a bad cough is such a drag. It would've been better if Finn had just staked him through the heart and gotten it over with. This way, he's decaying on the inside, going away slowly, feeling himself getting weaker and weaker by the minute. He thought he'd have at least a little bit more time, but things are not looking good for him.

At least he'll get to see Davina one last time. She's downstairs, with that vampire friend of hers, Josh. Perhaps they can make a date out of tonight yet, go down with a bang. He wouldn't mind if it was literally, in fact, but he doubts he even has enough energy left in him for that. Besides, how sad it would be for Davina to bang a dying man, with blood running down his nose? Not a memory he wants to leave her with.

There's a soft knock on the door and then Caroline sticks her blonde mane in. "Checking that you didn't bolt," she says in jest.

Kol wipes his mouth with a handkerchief and puts it away before he turns around, but by the look on her face, it must be quite obvious that he's not exactly exuding health. Sad. This body was actually quite the looker.

"Still here, sweetheart," he says, trying to sound as upbeat as he possibly can. He's looking forward to that ceremony, to be honest. He did a lot of research on it. It's exciting magic to perform. Plus, the perks are just way too good to pass. "A promise is a promise. Besides, I wouldn't miss the chance of seeing Nik witnessing your bonding moment with that wolf lad for nothing in this world."

Caroline glares as she steps into the room, offering him a glass of whiskey. "Thought you might need this."

"Thank you." He happily takes the glass from her and then sits down on his bed, letting a weary exhale out as he lifts the glass up to his lips. After he's had a sip, he finally takes her in as she stands before him, arms folded over her beautiful cleavage. She looks absolutely stunning. Nik chose well.

"Wow," he says, leering lazily. "Aren't you a sight for dying eyes?"

She grins shortly. "Thanks."

"Tell me again how my caveman of a brother ended up with a girl like you?"

"Well, he knocked me up," she says with a shrug. Kol chuckles. "Are you asking out of curiosity or because there's a certain ridiculously beautiful witch that has crawled under your skin?"

Kol's smiles turns bashful as he looks down at his glass. "That obvious, huh?"

"You Mikaelsons do not know subtlety. Piece of advice, though. Don't knock her up. 100% would not recommend getting pregnant before you're out of high school."

Kol snorts half-heartedly as he nods his head at her. It's a good advice, he just... Doesn't think he'll ever have to use it. "Noted."

His dejection must be quite glaring, though, because the mood changes in the room, from banter to glumness. Caroline drops her arms, taking a step closer to him, concern etched onto her face.

"How are you?" she asks softly.

"As ok as I'll ever be at this point. But thank you for asking."

"I'm sorry, Kol," she says earnestly. "I know we're not exactly pals, but... I really am sorry. I wish there was more I could do to help."

"Appreciate the sentiment, love." He lifts his glass in a toast to her before knocking back the rest of his drink. "Especially since it's because of my mother that you're no longer a witch. I'm only now starting to fully grasp the concept death. It's an ugly thing, isn't it? I hated it the first time, but it was a quick one. The ironic thing is I actually preferred this go-round, being a witch. No heightened emotion, no bloodlust - no offense."

Caroline shakes her head. "None taken. I know exactly what you mean. You get used to it after a while, but -"

"It's just not the same."

"No. It never is. Like there's this..."

"Hole inside of you," he finishes for her. "Nothing can quite fill it. Just this empty space, like an absence. And you try and try to make up for it, even get good at it, find something that gives you meaning, pleasure... But it's just -"

"Not the same," she says, an impossible understanding passing between the two of them.

Kol spent an entire millennium making up for his lost magic and his lack of purpose by giving in to the worst parts of his vampirism: the savagery, the heartlessness, the bloodthirst. It never really brought him any joy, but it kept him distracted. Caroline is only just starting her journey. But she's got something Kol never felt he did: a family who values and loves her, and a daughter. She's gonna be a much better vampire than he ever was, for sure. She already is. For her sake, he hopes there never comes a day when she decides to give in to the temptation of that humanity switch newbie vampires have inside of them. Bouncing back from that is a pain in the arse, can break even the purest of hearts, taint the most virtuous of souls. It's a weight she'll have to carry with her for eternity, and it never really gets any easier. Just ask Elijah... His coping mechanism is coming back to bite him a thousand years later.

He doesn't really know Caroline, which he is only now starting to realize is a shame. He knew she was witty and feisty, which has always been Kol's favorite type of people, but now he sees they also had a lot more in common than it meets the eye. Esther has put her through hell and then some and still she's come back from it, apparently stronger, more resilient. Kol can admire that. She's got a fighting spirit. He hopes she never loses it. For once, he'd like to see someone proving mother dearest just how shockingly wrong she's been all this time. The best revenge Caroline could ever take is to be happy. Live her life with her baby, with Nik, if that's what she wants - poor girl... - and never let any of that ugliness touch her heart. That's how Esther loses.

"Yeah," she says after a moment, her eyes flickering away from him, to the window. "That's exactly it."

"It was good, being just me. No higher force, no hunger telling me what to do, driving me out of my mind. I feel like I've finally gotten to know my true self. For a while, anyway."

She sits down on the bed, some distance between them. They're bonding over the tragedy of their lives - or deaths, to be more accurate - here but it's still a little awkward.

"Is that what Rebekah is trying to do? Find a way to stop the hex?"

"My little sister refuses to give up, bless her heart," he says, voice filled with pride. Rebekah has always been his favorite. He is so sorry for the prank he pulled on her now... Well, for putting her in the body of a witch locked away at the Fauline mansion anyway. Maybe he could've just given her a proper scare by having her wake up in New York or something. "I don't expect she'll manage, though. This magic is too powerful. Not even Finn could undo it, and we simply don't have enough time. At least I'll go out with a bang, officiating your wedding ceremony.” He turns to Caroline, a wolfish smirk gracing his lips. “ _Oops_. I did it again."

Caroline slits her eyes at him, but he can see she's biting back on a smile. "You almost caused a serious incident."

"I heard. Sorry about that. Nik was getting on my nerves, I had to hit him where it'd hurt. You should've seen the look on his face, though. Priceless!"

Now there is one thing Kol does not regret at all.

Caroline considers him pensively for a moment. "You know... I was there after you died the first time. Bonnie trapped your brother in Elena's living room for a whole day with a boundary spell or he would've killed everyone to avenge you. Your body was still there when I arrived. The look I saw on his face..." Her eyes become distant as she slips into her memories. "He was devastated. Heartbroken." She stops talking, silence lingering on for a beat before she blinks him back into focus. "However despicable and defenseless his methods might be, I'm pretty sure he loves you. In his own way. And I know he's heartbroken to lose you again."

Kol snorts softly, feeling e genuine ember of warmth in his chest for his brother. "Nik is a strange one, isn't he? Has a blunt way of showing affection. Almost like a thump to the head. His love is full of thorns." He pauses, looking up at her as candid as he knows how to be. "He's a changed man, though. Still a paranoid psychopath, but... For the first time in a thousand years, I can honestly say he has a beating heart, and it's in the right place. I guess we have you to thank for that."

Caroline grins sheepishly, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "I don't think I can take that much credit."

"You're being modest, darling. I completely underestimated you when I first saw you at mother's ball, though I do commend you for the way you made Nik chase after you like a puppy after a treat. He's still doing that, to this day."

"If he knows what's good for him," she replies with a noncomitant shrug.

Kol smiles. "You are good for my brother. I'm sorry for what happened to you and your little girl. I do hope this ceremony today will help keep my niece safe."

Caroline looks at him with a sudden speculative gleam in her eyes. "Would you like to meet her?"

Kol blinks at her. "She's here?"

Caroline’s smile grows into a beam, her eyes sparkling with affection for her daughter. She stands to her feet, offering a hand to him. "Come on," she says. "I'll make the introductions."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah is having a lonely drink in the study room when he hears the commotion outside and realizes the ceremony must be about to start. He leaves his glass and steps out into the walkway overlooking the ballroom. Niklaus is already there, hands closed around the railing, his unflinching stare fixed on what's happening on the first floor.

Elijah stands shoulder to shoulder with his brother. Niklaus doesn't even spare him a glance. His expression is absolutely neutral, but somehow even that feels hostile. He’s putting a real effort into staying that way.

All the guests have stood up and are looking towards the door, right under the both of them. The room is completely packed, there aren't even enough seats for everyone. Wolves came from all over the place, ready to pledge their allegiance to Jackson in order to take part in the ceremony. He heard from Caroline even some alphas have abdicated their positions and submitted their entire packs to the Crescents' leadership. That's quite impressive. It's an old and respected clan, but the fact they'd be willing to follow an alpha as young as Jackson says a lot about how important this moment is. They're watching history being written right before their eyes.

It's not all wolves, however. Niklaus also invited - at Caroline’s request and with Jackson’s consent - some vampires, as a show of good faith. Elijah sees Marcel, Joshua and Gia, a couple of others whom he recognizes as well. Davina Claire sits with them - and while everyone is obviously looking at where Caroline and Jackson are about to enter, the little witch has her eyes set on the mezzanine up front, where Kol is waiting next to Mary. Poor girl, about to have her heart broken for the millionth time before her 20th birthday.

Kol is smiling at her with a tenderness that is completely unfamiliar on his face. Elijah feels a stab of sadness for his youngest brother. He was finally turning things around for him, learning how to enjoy life away from the excesses and the mania. Kol has many faults and he's certainly caused them a lot of trouble this time around, but he was never evil. He was hurt, bitter, perhaps even somewhat misguided by their mother's intentions, but not inherently bad. Not beyond salvation, like Finn. He deserved better. Elijah spent a thousand years chasing the redemption of Niklaus' immortal soul, even when there was no evidence that he even had one still; he owed it to Kol to give him a chance, and he feels like he failed him. They all have.

He wishes there was more he could do to help. Rebekah is trying, but... So far, progress has been void. Judging by his sickly and ashen complexion, he doesn't have much time left.

Niklaus tenses when they finally spot Caroline, walking side by side with Jackson down the corridor between the rows of seats. She seems nervous, though she's as graceful as ever, head held high, a tiny grin dancing on the corner of her lips as she takes in the rows and rows filled with her soon-to-be subjects.

Elijah wonders what must be going through his brother's head right now... Regret, certainly, if not for having agreed to this, then at least for having decorated the place like the site of a wedding ceremony. It must be pins and needles to see her sauntering beside Jackson like this. Even Elijah isn't entirely comfortable; Niklaus must on the verge of a stroke.

Caroline and Jackson part ways as they each go up to the mezzanine using a side of the staircase. When they reach the top, standing before Mary and Kol, where everyone can see them, the wolf grandmother smiles affably and gesticulates to her brethren. "Please, be seated."

Caroline turns to the two of them, perhaps sensing Niklaus' piercing gaze. When she meets his eyes, she smiles, her obvious fondness for him edging her delicate features. Klaus doesn't return the gesture, but Elijah hears the skip in his heart, some of that excessive tension bleeding out of him.

Then Mary starts speaking, and Caroline's attention turns back to the ritual.

"We gather here together as a community seeking peace, inspired by the union of these two before you. There was a time when werewolves saw themselves not as cursed, but as blessed with a connection to our most pure selves. And tonight, we honor that blessing with the long-awaited unification of two Crescent bloodlines." Mary puts Jackson and Caroline's hands together, binding their wrists with a ribbon. When she does that, Kol puts his hands forth, closes his eyes and starts chanting. Caroline noticeably tenses up.

"In doing so, we choose to embrace Caroline's vampire nature," Mary continues. "With this union, Caroline will share her unique gifts with the pack." She gives both of them a candle to hold with their joined hands. "Caroline, do you pledge to honor and defend Jackson and his, to be loyal and, for as long as you both shall live, be a part of his family?"

"I d-" Caroline stops herself, scrunching up her nose. "Yes," she hurries to correct, her cheeks burning crimson with embarrassment. "Can I say yes?" Jackson chuckles while Mary nods. "Yes," she repeats one more time, glancing quickly at Klaus.

Elijah notices his brother's eyes have darkened, his knuckles white against the railing. His breath hitches, and then he released it with a loud sigh.

"Jackson," Mary continues. "Do you welcome Caroline into your pack, pledge to honor and defend her and hers, to be loyal and, for as long as you both shall live, be a part of her family?"

Jackson cracks an amused little smile before he says, "Yes." Caroline bites on her lower lip trying to hold back the giggles, shaking her head.

Elijah smiles to himself as Niklaus' lips thin into a tight line as he watches.

Mary motions for them to light up a big candle that's been placed before them, together. The flame burns high and bright, getting a collective gasp out of the audience, before it returns to normal.

Kol sighs, putting his hands down. "It's done," he says, his face paler than normal, sweat dripping from his forehead. He looks like he's about to faint. Elijah resists the urge to go to his brother, afraid to disrupt the ritual before it’s wrapped up.

"Well, you two have endured all of the trials. Now there's only one thing left to do," Mary says.

"You have to kiss," Kol adds, smirking wolfishly.

Caroline's eyes widen as she looks from Kol to Mary and then Jackson. "What?"

Mary shakes her head, casting a look at Kol. "You only need to touch to seal the ritual, doesn't have to be a kiss. An embrace will do."

Caroline glares at Kol while he rolls his eyes. "Come on, grams. Must you ruin the fun? Are you seeing that?" he points a finger towards Niklaus, with a dark murderous look on his face that could set this whole place on fire.

"Just go ahead," Mary says, motioning for them to do it.

As Jackson and Caroline wrap their arms around each other in a warm hug, Niklaus averts his gaze. If Elijah knows his brother at all, he must have jealousy and chagrin permeating every inch of his being right about now, verging dangerously on rage. He cannot deny that it is a little bit entertaining to see him so grim over the fact. There was once a time when Elijah thought Niklaus would never care about anything or anyone other than himself and his own selfish ambitions. That's still an issue, but not exclusively. To see him wearing such an expression of emotion is... Refreshing, to be perfectly honest. Relieving. Well, obviously because Caroline is not really getting married to someone else. If she were, then it would heartbreaking. As it is, Niklaus is merely experiencing the beauty of human feelings. Of loving someone so much you cannot bear the thought of letting them go.

Even from a distance, Elijah can see, when Caroline and Jackson pull away, that their eyes are glowing like golden embers. There's a ripple of excitement running through the crowd, and when he looks down, he sees that all the werewolves' eyes are sparkling.

"It worked," Caroline breathes out, almost in disbelief. "We did it!" she says, hugging Jackson once more. He lifts her, spins her around, and that's as much as Niklaus can endure. He turns on his heels and stomps off. Elijah lingers for a while longer as the werewolves celebrate, the vampires looking mildly uncomfortable, and Kol disappears from sight. Then he follows Klaus.

He finds his brother looking out over the courtyard, that has been prepared for quite the bash following the ceremony. In just a bit, the guests will start relocating here. For now, however, it's just the two of them. And the darkened look on Niklaus' face does not sit well with him.

"I know that look," he says as he joins him. "I've seen it all too often. What are you planning?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"You just watched the woman you love commit herself for life to Jackson Kenner, in our home, solidifying his rule over the wolves you yourself once sought to control. Talk to me, Niklaus."

He purses his lips, tilting his head. "Jackson isn't exactly fit to lead an army tasked with protecting my daughter. His reign will be short-lived."

Elijah's brow furrows as it dawns on him what, exactly, his brother is saying. The cruelty of Niklaus' suggestion strikes him cold. He wasn't quite prepared for this. All this time he thought his brother was being mature and cooperative while he had been plotting all along. It's so quintessentially _Niklaus_ Elijah feels foolish all of a sudden for not having expected it. This silly penchant of his to always hope for the best where the best rarely ever comes from...

"You know, I've learned to expect the absolute worst of you, Niklaus, but I still somehow find myself astonished by your complete lack of empathy," he says, not hiding the disapproval in his tone. "Is that why you were so keen on throwing this party? So the wolves would believe they have your support, and later wouldn't suspect you when their leader ends up mysteriously murdered." Klaus glowers, his lips drawing into a childish, displeased turn, like Elijah is being _unreasonable_. "You can't honestly believe I would allow you to harm Jackson."

"He's not one of us, Elijah," he snaps. "He's mortal. And mortals, as frail as they are, have a pesky tendency to perish."

He attempts to walk away, but Elijah grabs a hold of his arm. "What are you doing?"

"Confide in me, brother," he says, unrepentant, shrugging him off. "How does it feel when you see the way he looks at Caroline? I know how I feel. I imagine you don't fancy it much yourself."

"Niklaus, I am warning you."

"Face the facts. _She_ is one of us. _Our_ family. The mother of my child, your niece. You heard that woman's words. For her to be bound forever to Jackson Kenner as family, we would have to be, too. And that is just not happening. Admit it, brother. You want him dead as much as I do."

Niklaus’ eyes flash with wickedness as he turns away and disappears into the house. Elijah is left speechless. That is too cold, even for Klaus. How can he watch what he just watched, see Caroline's joy as she hugged a _friend_ , so proud that their plan worked. Happy not because of her ties to Jackson, but because the ritual's success allows her to have her family reunited under their roof - Niklaus and their child, together. How he can see that and still think such dreadfulness? Convince himself that the right thing to is to eliminate Jackson?

Elijah recalls the conversation he had with Caroline when she confided in him about the ritual, back at the safe house. She said Niklaus was losing his mind to paranoia, that he wasn't _stable_. Elijah thought she'd been exaggerating, then. Surely there was enough reason for Klaus' temper to be flaring out of control, what with Esther and Finn tormenting their lives and threatening Eve. But he sees now that she was, once again, right, observing something in his brother's behavior that not even he had. He is not getting better; he is only getting worse.

Niklaus _is_ losing it, and if allowed to continued down that path...

Things will end in tears for a lot of people, not just Jackson.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus lets out a deep, tired exhale when he feels the burn of his brother's judgement drilling holes on his back. Elijah just doesn't know how to let things go.

In truth, it was foolish of him to share his honest thoughts with his brother. He believed, after everything Elijah's been through lately, from psychological torture to blowing himself up with a house, that he of all people would understand the need for drastic measures in order to guarantee their family's safety. Apparently, however, Klaus underestimated Elijah's soft-heartedness.

"Are you to be my chaperone the entire evening, brother?" he asks moodily, not turning around from where he is, out on his balcony, watching as a wedding parade marches underneath their window. There's one every other day. Klaus doesn't mind these things much, but today he is feeling particularly testy about weddings. Maybe he should go snack on the bride and groom, just to work out some of that tension.

"Chaperone, steward, baby-sitter, whichever term tickles your fancy most," Elijah says. "You are welcome to indulge in whomever and whatever you please, I would only ask you to refrain from any homicidal behavior. We have a jolly occasion here, wouldn't want you to ruin the mood for everyone."

Well, if anyone is having the mood _ruined_ , that's him.

"Just one day back and already you've more than fulfilled your quota for irritating brotherly conduct," Klaus grumbles as he goes back inside his bedroom, in search of a drink. This family makes him an alcoholic.

"Let me make myself quite clear, Niklaus," Elijah says in a stern voice. "So long as Jackson brings and his wolves stay loyal to keeping Caroline and my niece protected, you are not to go near him."

"It's amusing, listening to you defending the man who would have married the woman I love and is, no doubt, only too glad to have bound himself to her. But then you've always coveted that which is not yours to have, so perhaps you can relate," he shoots back, snapping fire.

Elijah's lips twist in disgust. "Listen to yourself, fueled by your delusions of persecution again. _Think_ , Niklaus. If you kill Jackson, the wolves will descend into chaos, and I believe it goes without saying that Caroline won't ever forgive you. You are acting out of fear, terrified that their proximity might cause her to develop feelings for him. That he might be a father figure to your daughter, and a better one than yourself."

"Do not bring the child into this," Klaus admonishes through grit teeth, his voice pitched grave and dangerous.

"Your child arrived here today, her security strengthened by those wolves that would defend her as one of their own, and you would jeopardize that alliance out of blind jealousy? Niklaus, you yourself even mentioned, had you been raised by Ansel you might have been a better man. Now, perhaps, a better man has entered Eve's life. And seeing that, you are so shaken to your core you're not thinking straight. Instead of making yourself into a man worthy of your daughter's admiration, you would rather give in to the most despicable of your instincts. Don't you see how that is _exactly_ how you are going to push Caroline away?"

"You have the audacity to analyze me?" Klaus barks furiously at his brother, anger flaring hot in his guts. "That's ambitions, considering your psychological deficiencies. How was your time with my therapist, by the way? Was it helpful? Because it was a great risk leaving you alone with her. These days, who knows what you might do?"

Elijah's eyes flash, his jaw clenching. "I have stood by you and I have defended you for as long as I can recall," he says darkly. "But in the name of your daughter and her mother, I will not allow you to commit this evil. Attack Jackson, and you will have to deal with me."

Elijah stares him down, turns on his heels and strides out of his bedroom.

Klaus lets out a disgruntled grunt, scrubbing a hand across his face. Like he needed any more reason to be in a _mood_ this evening.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus is washing out the sharper edges of his souring mood with alcohol when he catches the sound of his daughter's little whining over the laughter and the music filtering in from the party downstairs.

He puts down his drink and heads over to the nursery, poking his head inside. Camille has Eve in her arms and is gently rocking her back and forth as she stares out the window.

"I heard her crying," he says softly, not wanting to spook her or the child.

"Oh, it's nothing. She must be teething. Just wanted something to bite on," she replies, fixing the bunny Eve is currently trying to rip apart with her tiny mouth. Klaus can certainly relate. Apparently, his daughter took after him a lot more than he thought. "Is the ceremony over?" He nods his head once. "Did it work?"

"Yes," he says around a sigh. "All's gone according to plan."

"That's great," Camille says pleasantly before she realizes he doesn't exactly share her enthusiasm. "Isn't it?"

Klaus steps into the room, averting her gaze. "I know you don't like me very much, Camille, and I will concede that you have every reason not to, however... I wonder if I might ask you something?"

"Sure."

He's quiet for a moment, lifting his eyes to his daughter. So perfect, so blissfully oblivious of the horrors that surround her. Including her own family, starting with her father. It's hard to believe that he could be the architect of something as pure as that child. But he might yet come to mar her, as he does everything else he touches, bringing ruin and suffering to those he cares about most. Like her mother.

Would Caroline be happier without him? Would Eve? Elijah's words rattle away inside of him, no matter how hard he tries to chalk it up to his brother being purposefully spiteful. He cannot help but feel there is a kernel of truth in what he said. And perhaps Klaus has known it all along.

"Do you think I'll ever make a good father?" he asks in a small, strained voice. "Or will Eve be better off without me in her life? Will my presence cause her to be as damaged as I was by Mikael?"

The creases on Camille's expression deepen further for a moment in confusion before they smooth into something softer. "I can't answer you that," she replies, and Klaus lets out a mirthless huff of a laughter. A question that Camille does not have an answer to must be a conundrum for the ages, indeed. But then she keeps going. "The only person who can is you. It's your actions that are going to dictate the kind of influence you'll have over her. If you're worried about it, the simplest way to solve it is... Don't do to her what Mikael did to you. Do better. History doesn't have to repeat itself. Be to her the father that you wished you had. But, honestly... The fact it concerns you at all is probably a good start."

She offers him a sympathetic smile. Her answer doesn't provide him with the solutions or the relief he was searching for, but he nods his head in gratefulness nonetheless.

"You know... It wasn't all selfish scheming, when we had our _sessions_ ," he tells her. "I genuinely appreciated your company, even if I had a poor way of showing it. I'm sorry for all the harm I've caused you, Camille."

She arches both her eyebrows at him, taken aback. "Wow. Who are you and what have you done to Klaus?"

His lips curl into as diffident a smile as he knows how to. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter."

"She's pretty low-maintenance, actually. She's just been smiling and looking around. I think she really likes it here." Camille pauses, looking back at him with a question in her eyes. "Do you wanna hold her?" _Yes_ , Klaus thinks, but he hesitates. Camille walks over to him, leaning Eve into his arms until he takes her. She settles easily into him, her curious little hands grabbing at his lapel.

"I know this all must be pretty overwhelming, but some advice I learned from development psych," Camille says. "Happy mom, happy dad, happy baby."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

How can Niklaus be so disgruntled and heartless when Caroline is so clearly happy? His selfishness knows no limits. If he's not the thing that makes her happy, then he wants to destroy anything that does, eliminate the competition.

Well, this time, at least, he shall not. Elijah will make sure of that.

Jackson Kenner is hardly his favorite person and he has no warm feelings for werewolves, but they are here to protect Eve. So long as they do it, they're allies, not enemies. His family is in terrible need of those. Elijah will not allow Niklaus' ridiculous bout of insecurity to ruin it.

He clears his throat as he approaches Caroline, who's having a laugh with Jackson and some of the wolves. The men become visibly tense when they notice him, but he merely grins amicably. "May I?"

Caroline beams, taking his offered hand and joining him on the dance floor, where a few other pairs are swaying to a gentle tune. Elijah notices one of those are Josh and Aiden. _Huh._ How had he missed that before?

"It seems I'm in high demand tonight," Caroline says. "Never run out of dance partners. A girl can get used to that kind of attention."

"I'm sure that's no novelty to you."

She snorts. "You'd be surprised." Elijah cocks her a skeptical eyebrow. "I grew up with Elena Gilbert. You've met her."

He would like to say that, while Elena was certainly a lovely young woman, he can't see how she could've overshined Caroline that much, but the truth... Well, he's guilty of having noticed nothing but Elena while he was in Mystic Falls. He blames it on the doppelganger factor, seeing someone else wearing Katerina's face with such earnest and pure emotions. It was never a problem for Niklaus, though. He saw Caroline and no one else. He was right, of course. In any case, he does not wish to delve any deeper into mattes long behind. Tonight is about the future, not dwelling in past resentments.

"You look beautiful," he says.

Caroline grins. "Courtesy of your sister. I was gonna do this in jeans and boots."

"How do you feel? Any difference?"

"It's strange. I don't know, it's like... I have these goosebumps that I can't shake off. I feel like I can pretty much do anything right now. Is it weird that I kind of want to climb the walls in heels and then jump from the roof just because I can? I wonder if this is how werewolves feel all the time."

Elijah smiles at the juvenile kind of amusement in her voice, her eyes sparkling with renewed excitement. Caroline is... Resplendent. He doubts that's the werewolf magic, though. She's simply happy.

"What you did here today... It'll go down in werewolf folklore. It'll be remembered, forever. No Crescent wolf will ever have to turn on a full moon again, all because of you."

"It sounds a lot bigger when you say it like that."

"It's tremendous. You should be proud of yourself, Caroline. What you did - chasing after this yourself - is truly remarkable."

Caroline lifts her eyes to him, her whole face lit up with joy. "Thank you. Let's hope it works out for the best."

They focus on the dancing for a bit, picking up the pace as they move around the room, before she speaks again. "How about you? Are you ok?"

Elijah's smile becomes slightly more strained. "Getting better."

"How was it with Cami?"

"She's an interesting young lady. Incredibly persuasive. Has _ways_ of getting what she wants out of people."

"She's _also_ really smart. And kind. And pretty. And single."

"Caroline..."

"What? I'm just saying." Elijah fixes her with a look and leaves it at that. "What about Gia, then?" He sighs. "Your little padawan has been casting longing looks your way all night, in case you haven't noticed. And she looks hot, too." Caroline turns her face towards where the vampires are, all gathered together in a corner, obviously overwhelmed by the massive juiced-up werewolf presence. He casts a quick glance at them, confirming that, indeed, Gia is looking their way. It did not go unnoticed that she looks rather ravishing this evening, but he decides not to mention that to Caroline. Already she is getting ideas he doesn't want to indulge. "Tight dress, nice hairdo -"

Elijah spins her around in a complicated way, releasing her arm and then catching it back and spinning her back towards him before he pulls her close and bends her back. She laughs as she straightens up once more.

"Where did you pick up those moves?!"

He cocks his head, shrugging nonchalantly. "I have a few cards under my sleeve as well."

"Was that your way of shutting me up? Because it was really good. Totally worked."

"Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention, please." They snap their heads around to see Klaus walking down the stairs. With Eve. The smile drops from Caroline's face and she seems concerned, probably wasn't planning on introducing their daughter to all the werewolves tonight. But, as always, Niklaus will do whatever Niklaus wants. "Caroline, if you would join me, I'd like to propose a toast."

She exchanges a glance with Elijah before she walks up to Klaus, taking the baby in her arms but standing beside him. Niklaus picks up a champagne flute from one of the waiters and signals for the music to stop. When he's certain he's got the attention of every one of their guests, he continues, a proud smile on his face.

"I want to welcome you all. As you know, last spring, Caroline and I had a daughter. Due to tragic circumstance, she was lost. Now she has returned home. Her name is Eve." Shock passes through the crowd, a hush descending upon the courtyard. "She will live here among you, her pack, her new family. We implore you, protect our daughter. Teach her, love her as one of your own." Niklaus' eyes stop pointedly on Jackson. The Crescents' alpha nods his head solemnly.

His brother lifts his glass in the air. "Welcome to the family, mate," he says, in a lower tone, to Jackson, and then, turning back to the crowd, "To Jackson and Caroline!"

All around him, people raise their glasses and repeat his words before drinking. Elijah narrows his eyes at him, but Niklaus merely ignores him, turning to speak to Caroline.

For everyone's sake, Elijah hopes this isn't just an act, but rather Niklaus falling into his senses, for once.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus has just about had it with Elijah when his brother decides to come bother him while he's watching his daughter. Camille has left and Caroline is still a sought-after commodity down amongst her new subjects - much to his chagrin - so the task was left to him. Not that he's complaining. Eve is the only thing bringing him any peace under his roof right now.

Is nothing sacred anymore?

"Must you intrude in every moment?" he grumbles, keeping his voice low not to wake the baby.

"I'm not here to quarrel, brother," he says, urgency written across his features.

"It's Kol," Rebekah says, materializing behind her. If Elijah seems concerned, she's quite clearly distressed. "I couldn't find a way to help him. I don't think he's gonna last the night."

Klaus exhales, aggravated, leaving his gripe with Elijah on the back burner, his face twisting with worry. What a night for Kol to succumb... Performing the ceremony must've weakened him further. That was quite old, powerful magic, the type that take a physical toll. But he held on bravely, fulfilled his promise.

They must go to him.

"I'll tell Caroline we're leaving," he says, leaving Elijah and Rebekah watching Eve while he goes to find her mother.

He was counting the minutes for tonight to be over so he could at last have some quality time with his family, remind himself why they're doing all this to begin with - and, more importantly, that honorary Crescent or not, Caroline is still very much his. But it seems like the evening will be a rather long one, and far more dismal than he'd anticipated...

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

They hear the music as soon as they cross into the cemetery. It's an old 1940s tune, not exactly Kol's style, if Elijah remembers anything about his brother's preferences. Kol was always ahead of his time, be it with magic, art, music... The first thing he put his hands on when he woke up in Mystic Falls was an iPod. Wanted to know what kids these days had been listening to.

They understand the soundtrack when they turn a corner and come across a rather poignant, heartbreaking scene.

He's dancing with Davina Claire right outside Kol's secret lair, the witch's eyes bright with tears. That girl always had an old soul, much too serious for someone so young. Then again, being forsaken by your family and forced to mature when you're but a child with the weight of the world on your shoulders will do that to a person.

It's an unexpected pair, Kol and Davina, but seeing the two of them together now, Elijah begins to understand. Davina grounds him, gives him perspective, while he offers her the freedom of the unexpected, brings her out of her cage with his spontaneity. It makes sense that they'd be drawn to one another. Which makes this all the sadder.

Elijah cannot recall a single time in history where Kol seemed to genuinely care about another person beyond how much they could offer or how entertained they made him. Just as he finally found a flicker of affection to nurture...

He holds back Niklaus as he tries to go to their brother, only a look passing between them as he shakes his head. _Give him time_ , he's saying. _Let them have this_. For once, Klaus does not argue. If anyone can currently understand how precious moments like these are, it's him, after all. So the three of them stay back, turning away to offer the two of them privacy, waiting for the right moment to intrude.

"I know that we're in a cemetery and that I'm terminal..." Kol speaks after a long while, his voice rough and shaky around the edges. "But you've got to admit, the stars are lovely."

"How can you joke right now?" Davina asks, her speech thick with emotion.

"I'm not. Under these same stars, there's... Some guy. Somewhere. And he's with his girl and he's got all the time in the world, and he's right. And I hate him."

There's a pause, and then Kol starts coughing. The three of them straighten up, exchanging looks.

"Are you ok?" Davina asks.

"Yeah..." Kol replies, barely above a whisper now. "I think I want to be alone for this bit."

Well, that's their cue, then.

Elijah steps out first. "I'm afraid that's not an option." Kol looks up at him with wide eyes, his face stricken with surprise.

"Always and forever is not just something you weasel out of, brother," Niklaus adds with as soft a grin as he can sport.

"We're not leaving you," Rebekah finishes.

A grateful smile graces Kol's pale, tired features. This will be a terribly sad night for all of them, but at least they'll be together, as they should, and Kol will pass away knowing that, however dysfunctional his family might be, they so love him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Death is an ugly affair. But Kol faced it with far more dignity than most.

He was in pain, cold, hopeless... And yet he was not sad. He was not scared. "All my life, all I ever wanted was you lot to care about me," he told them, finding it in him to smile in such a moment.

They couldn't help him, barely had enough time to try and save him, but at least now he knows. He laid in his sister’s arms, with both his brothers holding his hands, surrounded by that _always and forever_ he felt so left out of. And when Rebekah fulfills her promise to him - to bring him back - everything will be different.

Klaus' return to the compound is slow. Rebekah and Elijah stayed behind to take care of arrangements for the funeral, while he went home to check that everything was all right, but he felt... empty. Wrecked by such a deep-rooted sadness he didn't know how to handle.

Grief... That's another ugly thing.

It's ironic how Klaus was ready to kill Kol himself not long ago, when he was working with Esther against them, and now feels so terribly stricken by his loss.

Tonight should be a good night, the first night of his daughter at home, with her parents. And yet, all he's got is this overwhelming gloom.

There are two werewolves standing guard outside the compound when he finally arrives, another group talking and drinking in the courtyard. They nod at him, a bit strained, but respectful nonetheless. Other than them, the place looks completely deserted. The party is over, everyone's gone. His home is a mess, but he can't even berate anyone for it. It was his idea, after all. He'll need to hire people to clean this up first thing tomorrow, have all the evidence of this wretched evening gone as soon as possible.

He makes his way to the second floor, going straight to Caroline's room. He finds her in the nursery, swaying lightly on the rocking chair as she watches Eve asleep in her crib. She looks so serene, so at peace, her cobalt eyes alight even under the weak glow of the lamp, filled with an impossible warmth as she gazes lovingly at their daughter, almost in disbelief. He understands the feeling perfectly. It hasn't really sunk in yet for him that she's home at last, and how much that changes... Well, everything.

For the first time this evening, Klaus feels a measure of comfort, the tightness in his chest dissipating slightly. When Caroline meets his eyes, however, concern breaks through her peace, and Klaus almost regrets intruding the moment.

Quietly, she stands up and pulls him outside with her, leaving the door a crack open as they shuffle further away not to disturb their daughter. Caroline looks up at him with a question in her eyes, and when Klaus' head dips, his jaw clenching tightly against the pain, she wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs.

Klaus shuts his eyes, breathing her in. Quiet steadiness surrounds them for a beat, and Klaus allows himself to find solace in Caroline's embrace, in the even sound of his daughter's breath as she sleeps. They stay like this for a moment longer before he pulls gently away.

"Just as it seemed as though Kol and I were finally starting to see eye to eye, after a thousand years of trying and failing... No matter. There will be time for it still. Rebekah's made him a promise to bring him back, and I know she'll keep her word."

"Well, in this city - in this _family_... Anything is possible. I really hope she can."

"Where's Jackson?"

"He went home. Everyone's left already. A couple of wolves stayed back to watch the perimeter; you must have seen them downstairs. Why?"

In a sudden whim, Klaus takes off his coat and the scarf he was wearing, then his jacket, and leaves it all on top of a chair before he turns back to Caroline. "Well, now that your furry subjects have retired back to the Bayou, perhaps I might have a dance?" he asks, slackening his tie around his neck.

Caroline frowns, huffing out a confused chuckle. "What, you didn't want to ask me to dance in front of the wolves?"

"Considering they have no love for me, I thought it was probably not the best idea to rub it in their noses who would get their magnificent queen at the end of the night."

Caroline shakes her head, but her lips curve into a luminous smile. "Cocky. But also, probably, smart. Just, we don't have music anymore, Romeo."

Klaus fumbles with his phone and a low tune starts to play. The quality is far from ideal, but they can't be blasting music loudly anyway with the baby asleep in the next room.

He puts his phone down and offers a hand to her. He spins Caroline once before they settle into an easy sway, cheek to cheek. She places a hand on his shoulder and the other joins his, while he puts his free one in the small of her back. They mold into each other quite easily, like they were made for this closeness, like their bodies know exactly how to fit together. For the first time all night, Klaus feels at peace. It's a spell of calmness, of stillness, before the storm strikes again. He knows it won't last - it never does - which is precisely why every second is precious.

He recalls Kol and Davina at the cemetery, regretting not having enough time. He's the man Kol hates, the one with his girl and all of eternity ahead of them. He knows what Kol was feeling, the maddening sensation of having something so rare, something you love with every part of your being, even the broken ones, the parts you thought incapable of feeling again, taken away from you. But Klaus got it back. He had the second chance he can only hope his younger brother might come to have as well one day. It made him realize how lucky he is. For Kol, he will dance with his girl and make every second count.

When Caroline turns her face to look at him, she has a radiant, thousand-suns smile from ear to ear on her face. Even though she's had a most tiresome day after a night where she barely slept, she is glowing.

"You're happy," he notes quietly.

Her smile falters. "I'm sorry. I know Kol just passed away, I shouldn't -"

"No," he interrupts her. "Don't apologize. I'm glad. I would give everything I own to make sure that sparkle never vanishes from your eyes."

"It's just... It's been some really crazy, shitty months. But today we almost got it all. We completed that impossibly complicated ritual, which was a long shot, but it worked. All the wolves are now free from Finn, Jackson gets his pack back and I got some new cool super powers. Eve is here, which I can hardly believe is true. And I also got to keep the guy." Caroline flings both her arms behind his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. It sends a delicious tingle spreading through Klaus' skin, and he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer still, their foreheads touching. "I wish Kol had had more time, and I’m sorry that you had to say goodbye to him tonight, because today should’ve felt like winning. I know tomorrow is a different story and my optimism could come back to bite me in the ass, but... I just want to enjoy this moment."

Klaus smiles, his chest bursting with an impossible affection for that woman. She is pure magic still, even if she's no longer a witch, making their night feel so ordinarily domestic and simple when life is anything but. "Then enjoy it, love," he says softly. "This moment is all yours."

Caroline presses her lips to his - once, twice - and then peppers feather-like kisses on his jaw before she nestles her head on his shoulder, burying her nose in the curve of his neck. She touches her lips to the point under his ear he knows is where she can feel the strong rush of his pulse. Does she know it's all for her? That his heart beats for her and her alone?

Klaus kisses her forehead and then closes his own eyes as they continue to move together, the knots in his chest coming undone one gentle sway at a time.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from the song I have in my mind for that last scene between Klaus and Caroline. [Oceans by Seafret, which I'm linking to you here](https://open.spotify.com/track/5eXnC2B5RU5fAhfwvV2ABD?si=67CGkj8XRs6sACEORLOiyA). It's not necessary, but I do highly recommend that you check out the song because I think it adds a real nice touch to that last scene (also, it's a great song).
> 
> I'm really looking forward to your thoughts so far. If you're binging this story, I feel like this is a very good place to take a break! :) It's a long one, folks! So rest, sleep, eat, watch TV, do other stuff and then come back. This feels a lot like a mid-season finale, so it's perfect for a lil stop. :)
> 
> I have a dream that one day I will wake up and find out that this has been officially declared canon and Caroline was in TO all along. lol
> 
> If you've made it this far - THANK YOU! - and you have enjoyed the story, please leave me some kudos. :) 
> 
> Thank you so much to anyone who has read it this far! ❤


	15. S02E15 They All Asked For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Anybody still here? 👋
> 
> So before you jump into the chapter, **some important things you should know!** These aren't about this chapter in particular, but the rest of the story as a whole.
> 
> \- This story has a very clear halfway cut, as does the season of the show. So here begins the second part, where the enemy is different and so is the general mood of the story. Although this has been cooking for a while now (and if I did a good enough job, you have noticed that), this second part is very much about Klaus' downward spiral.
> 
> \- If you've watched The Originals, you know what Klaus is like this season. He gets cray-cray, folks, and this is a good time for me to remind y'all that I am **very much following canon** here. A lot of things will be different in the build up and the execution, but the main plot points are the same. So the Klaus you're about to get from here on is not a nice one. He's been afflicted with traumas and lingering raw emotions from the The Wolf 1, and this is going to cook up inside of him like a time bomb. So be ready for **a whole lotta angst** (I mean it) and **paranoid, obsessive, violent, controlling and not-really-committed-to-common-sense!Klaus**. Hopefully, if I did a good enough job here, you'll find it all makes sense (much more so than on the show, because I made a point of attaching some meaning to Klaus' erratic behavior) and will simply go on this ride with me.
> 
> \- _Why are you warning me about this?_ , you might ask. It's because I'm kinda tired of getting these from people who don't understand what 'following canon and TO!Klaus' means. So I'm being as direct as I possibly can without giving too much away. If this is not something you enjoy, then maybe consider not reading it.
> 
> \- Having said, this is still very much a Klaroline-in-love story. And yes, there will be a happy ending (though notice this story is 31 chapters long rather than 22, which is TO!S2 episode count).
> 
> Ok, I think this is it. More notes at the bottom of the page. Hope I didn't scare anybody off with these warnings. :) Just want you to be prepared. If you read this and you enjoy it and you would still like me to update, PLEASE, PLEASE drop me a note! Comments give me life and definitely keep me going. ❤️

* * *

Klaus' steps echo loudly in St. Anne's church as he strides down the aisle.

The sounds reverberate loudly across the walls as though he's the only person there. Deafening quietness surrounds him, but he's not alone. St. Anne's has been shut down since Kieran's death, over a year before, but the place is packed today. Klaus only vaguely registers the strangeness of the fact as he continues his slow march towards the altar.

Everyone has turned to look at him, apologetic and mournful expressions following his every step. There are a few familiar faces in the crowd. Elijah. Rebekah. Kol. Jackson. Aiden. Oliver. Marcel. Camille. Davina. And Eve. Not his daughter, but her namesake, Caroline's friend. She sits on the front row.

"I'm sorry," she says as he comes close, her lips drawn into a sad curve, her big eyes filled with sympathy.

Klaus blinks slowly at her, confused. And then he looks ahead, to the altar, and sees a closed casket there, surrounded by white flowers.

This is a funeral.

A fear he can't name festers in his stomach as he steps forward. He almost doesn’t want to look inside, but something propels him forward, his legs carrying out of their own will. Klaus swallows against a nauseating churning in his stomach and pulls the casket open.

It’s Caroline.

Her skin is flushed, her lips pink, her blonde curls as lustrous as ever, spilling around her head like a halo. She looks perfectly serene, as though she's merely asleep - except for the dark red stain on her chest and the tear on the fabric of her dress, exactly where her heart should be.

Klaus jerks awake with a manic pounding in his chest and a loud gasp, eyes electric as he takes in his surroundings. Sunlight streams in through the window, a cool breeze swaying the curtains in what is certainly the early hours of the morning. Sheets rustle next to him and then Caroline rolls over, lifting her head to look at him. She blinks lazily, eyes slightly glazed-over, her hair a beautiful sleep-mussed tangle.

"Klaus?" she asks in a hoarse voice. "What's wrong?"

He heaves out a breath when his eyes focus on her. "Nothing," he says, relaxing back against his pillows. "It's nothing, sweetheart. It's all fine."

Caroline lies on her side, propping her body up on an elbow, a line appearing between her eyebrows. "Are you all right?"

"Quite all right. Go back to sleep."

Caroline gives him an assessing look and a low, unconvinced hum. Sleep beats her suspicions, though, and she leans over him, placing a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before nestling her face on his chest, an arm draped over him. A moment later, she's already sound asleep once more.

Klaus counts her heartbeats, staring at the ceiling, to calm himself down. Sleep has completely lifted off him, but he doesn't want to move an inch.

_ It was just a dream _ , he tells himself, even as those pitiful stares still weigh on him, the overwhelming fear still clogging his throat.  _ Just a dream _ , as he recalls the nightmares he had about Mikael shortly before his father came back from hell to torment them once more.

Just a dream. Because he won't let anything like that happen to Caroline again. Ever.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline rolls her eyes into her skull, an  _ aaaaaaagh _ rumble leaving her mouth as Klaus and Elijah continue to spat back and forth over the phone.

It serves her right for thinking those two could sort out their differences in a mature manner. It's hard to tell what's worse: Klaus' colorful insults and petty accusations or Elijah's annoyingly calm passive-aggressive retorts. Why would they ever be sensible grown-ups about  _ anything _ if they can be petty children instead?

Elijah's decision to move out caught everyone by surprise. Caroline can  _ sort of _ understand why Klaus would be upset. He just pulled the pin on the grenade during breakfast in between sips of his coffee like it was nothing, like he was discussing as mild and unimportant a matter as the weather or what they'd be having for lunch.

"I've acquired a building in Algiers, next to Marcel's quarters."  _ Sip _ "I'm having some work done right now. Expect to be moving in two days."  _ Sip _ . "I'll start packing today and send someone over for my personal belongings."

Quietness descended upon them for a very long minute before Caroline processed the information. She kept waiting for him to add something more, like  _ It's temporary _ or  _ There's something I'm helping Marcel with but as soon as we're done, I'll be back _ . But when nothing came, it finally sank in that he really did mean he was moving out, for good. It was about then that she blurted out a  _ What? _ at the same time Klaus pushed off the table and stormed out of the dining room, slamming doors behind him.

He's had a perpetual scowl on his face ever since. That was a week ago. He and Elijah haven't spoken once. Every time Klaus has something to say he wants to make it to Elijah's ears, he starts grumbling at Caroline like she's some direct link to his brother. Every time Elijah has a message to his younger brother, he calls her like she's some human voice mail service.

She has pointed out to both of them, on more than one occasion, that she gave birth to  _ one _ baby that demands a lot of her attention, not three. They don’t seem to care.

This morning, she decided it was about time the two of them moved past this ridiculous feud. The one thing the two of them seem to agree on is that she’s wrong.

According to Elijah, his decision to move out was motivated by the comings-and-goings of the werewolves, which he, as a vampire, doesn't feel comfortable with. Caroline can understand - it is his home, after all, having all these strangers who keep shooting daggers at him under his own roof is not exactly pleasant. He also says that his move to Algiers is to aid Marcel in his vampire summer camp or whatever. He's been training the new recruits and thinks that being closer to them will make things easier.

It’s all perfectly reasonable from an objective point of view. But Caroline thinks there's more to it. The timing of Elijah's decision seems too weird for his excuse to be entirely honest - exactly after Eve comes home. Yes, the wolves are probably  _ part _ of why he doesn't want to live with them anymore, but it likely has something to do with wanting to cut the brotherly umbilical cord between them right when Klaus' family gets properly settled at their home. Rebekah managed to leave the nest. Now it's Elijah who wants out. Except Klaus takes these things as a personal offense. In his psychotic head, Elijah wanting out means he's relinquishing his place as a Mikaelson - or worse, that he is turning his back on Klaus.

Considering how well Klaus handled his sister wanting to leave, the tantrum he's throwing about Elijah is almost mild in comparison.

"All right, enough already with the squabbling," she cuts them off when it seems like they'll never stop on their own. Elijah was getting prickly and Klaus' voice was already an octave above what Caroline can take at this hour. Klaus clamps his mouth shut, pouting like a child, and Elijah sighs deeply on the other end of the line. "Klaus, if Elijah doesn't feel comfortable living here anymore, he's got a right to want out. Even you can see how that's awkward."

"There's nothing awkward about it," Klaus bites back. "You and Eve belong in the compound, where you're safe, and the wolves are here for your protection. As much as I would appreciate Elijah's help to kill Finn, if his delicate sensibilities are offended, then he's welcome to continue sulking across the river."

"As I have explained to you repeatedly, brother, my presence in Algiers is purely to assemble allies. Given all the enemies we have afoot in the form of wayward siblings and ancient maniacal aunt Dahlias, I would think you would applaud my efforts."

"If it's my applause you seek, you shouldn't have dashed off in a bloody huff."

"All right," Caroline cuts in again. "Can you two at least try and stay focused on what's best for Eve's safety? You can't be fighting right now."

"I would like nothing more," Elijah says at the same time Klaus grumbles, "I am doing exactly that."

Caroline claps once with feigned cheerfulness. If they refuse to be  _ nice _ , then they'll just have to fake it 'till they make it. "See? You're on the same team! Conflict resolved, crisis averted."

"I'll have to call you back," Elijah says and then hangs up.

Klaus steps up to her, chin jutted forward and a spark in his eyes. "Why are you on his side?"

"I'm on no one's side."

"You were defending his selfish decision to abandon ship in a most crucial moment. There's no crisis averted, if anything it's just gotten worse. Finn's body has disappeared from the morgue, which spells a hundred different kinds of problems. If there was ever a time for Elijah to decide to abandon his family, it was not this."

Caroline sighs. She doesn't want to effectively  _ be _ on Elijah's side because she knows how butthurt that's gonna make Klaus, but the truth is... She kind is Team Elijah on this one. It's her fault they have wolves crawling out of every corner at the compound, and he was never asked for his opinion on how he felt about it. Besides... Maybe it'll be good for Elijah to be on his own for a while. Get his own life. Make his own friends, find his own projects. He's dedicated enough of himself to the well-being of his siblings, and while everyone has found their own purposes, Elijah's the only one whose life still revolves almost completely around others. He deserves to fly solo for a while.

Now try explaining that to Klaus.

"Your brother is an adult - actually, no. He's  _ way _ past being an adult. He's an ancient creature. So what if he wants to have his own space? He's not abandoning the family, he just moved across the river. He can be here in ten minutes if you need him."

"He was supposed to stay here! Protect our home!" Klaus fires at her.

Caroline snaps her mouth shut, swallowing back a waspish reply before she loses her temper and they get into a stupid argument no one will win. It's not even 10 am yet; way too freaking early for this.

"I'm gonna let that tone pass because you're in a weird mood and you're  _ upset _ that your brother moved out." Klaus opens his mouth to counter, but she cuts off his protest by raising her tone above his. "Has it occurred to you that maybe all he wants is to have something in his life that is just his? Ever since I got here, Elijah has made his life about me. About you. About our child.  _ Nothing _ that's happened has been about him.  _ You _ have a life, Klaus. You have a family that's all yours. Maybe he just wants the same thing. What's so wrong with wanting to have something that has nothing to do with any of us?"

" _ Everything _ ," he retorts, voice laced with bitterness. "Family stays together."

Klaus turns around and storms out, no doubt to get a head start on his day drinking. Caroline has to resist the urge to be mad at Elijah for leaving her to deal with his brother's mood on her own.

She takes her phone to type a message to Jackson. He's on his way to the compound for a meeting on their next steps on the pursuit of Finn. Things have just gotten shadier now that they know Vincent Griffith's body, that should’ve been blown up into a thousand little pieces, has disappeared from the morgue, and they can't sit back and wait for him to make the first move anymore. Honeymoon is over.

_ Brace yourself, _ she types.  _ The beast is out of the cage. Bring a helmet. _

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"It's time to use our werewolf army. Finn and the woman who calls herself my sister are in this city. The wolves can help pinpoint her location," Klaus says as he paces in front of Jackson and Caroline - he sits on the couch while Caroline is perched on the arm with her legs crossed.

Honestly, Klaus doesn't get why they had to make this a  _ meeting _ when a phone call to pass on the order would have sufficed, but Caroline insisted. "You can't just make unilateral decisions and tell him over the phone like he's your hitman. We're supposed to discuss these things.” All pointless red tape, in his opinion, but so be it. Let her have her pretense democracy if it makes her happy.

But time is of the essence right now and there's only so much small talk Klaus can handle in the mood he's in. So instead of opening a  _ discussion _ to indulge Caroline's diplomatic streak, he cuts straight to the point. They need to find Finn before he finds them.

"No," Jackson says simply. Klaus stops walking, turns back to the wolf alpha with his head cocked. "We need all hands on deck to watch the compound with Eve. You can compel humans to track your enemies."

Klaus' lips curl into a predatory grin. Jackson may have gotten Caroline's powers, but if he thinks he's strong enough to stand up to a real hybrid, he'll be in for a surprise. Perhaps Klaus went too easy on him on their last match, after all. "Do my ears deceive me, or did you just give me an order in my own home?"

"This ain't about your ego, Klaus," he retorts with heat. "It's about what's best for your daughter, in case you've forgotten."

"How dare you question my intentions for my daughter?"

"All right, stop," Caroline says, putting her hands out before Jackson could rise to the challenge. "Klaus... Chill," she says with a pointed look. He huffs out in indignation, turning away from Jackson. "Jack... Klaus is right. Finn's body disappeared from the morgue, which means he's either powerful enough to heal from that explosion or Freya's powerful enough to save him. Either way, we're not finding them unless you send your best people out there."

Klaus smiles triumphantly at Jackson. "I'm sure you and all your merry men will find them posthaste."

Jackson stands to his feet, staring Klaus down with a grim expression. "Just to be clear. I'm giving this order because Caroline is asking."

"Ah," Klaus says, arching his eyebrows, completely unimpressed. He almost  _ wants _ Jackson to come at him just so he'll have an excuse to beat him up again. His desire to do so has grown exponentially since he was forced to watch that wretched ceremony.

"Don't think for one second that I take orders from you," the dog barks with his teeth clenched before he jets out.

Caroline folds her arms across her chest, glaring at him. "Do you really think that's the way to get him to cooperate?"

"I don't have to  _ get _ him to cooperate. He agreed to that the moment he got into that ritual with you."

"No, he didn't. He's still the alpha. He doesn't have to send his men to die if he doesn't want to."

"Finding Finn is just as much in his interest as it is in ours."

"You're missing the point here. If you continue to address him like he's your lackey, his motivation to protect our daughter will considerably dim. We  _ need _ him, Klaus. I know you're in a mood because of Elijah, but you don't have to torch down the whole world because of that. It's not my fault and it's definitely not Jackson's, so stop barking at the wrong tree," she rants.

Klaus steps closer, eyes locked into hers. "Jackson Kenner has one purpose and one purpose only," he starts slowly. "The second he fails to deliver, he ceases to be of any use to me. And my patience for people who serve me no purpose tends to be rather thin. I suppose I should at least be glad you sided up with me on this one."

Blue flames spark behind Caroline’s eyes, her placid expression morphing into a deep scowl. For a second, he isn't sure whether she's going to hit him or set him on fire. Instead, she stands to her feet. "You know what?" she says, in a crisp tone. "I'm not even going to dignify what you just said with an answer. Let me know when the stick up your ass has been removed."

Klaus feels a stab of guilt as Caroline leaves. He hasn't been exactly a delightful company lately and, because of her proximity, she's been suffering the most, even though she's at no fault of her own. This is why he needs Elijah, so he has someone else to deflect the sharpest edges of his mood, sparing Caroline from being hit. It just makes him all the angrier at his brother's preposterous decision to move out.

_ He wants a life of his own _ . Well, he wasn't that interested in finding it elsewhere when he still nurtured hopes over stealing Caroline away, did he?

All the more reason why finding Finn and their long-lost sister, or whoever the hell that impostor is, is of utmost urgency. The quicker they can get rid of this threat, the easier his life will be. Even evil villains need a break sometimes.

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Elijah rushes into Marcel's loft like a thunder. Already his decision to move across the river is proving wise.

He got a call from him about five minutes ago saying that he'd just rescued Rebekah from a mob attack at the Treme witch market. She was checking the stands, in search of an item, when she realized she was being watched. When she tried to leave, a bunch of witches cornered her and would've executed her in broad daylight if Marcel hadn't intervened.

Elijah only needed time to get dressed and flash through less than a block. With no one to witness around these areas, he doesn't have to mind his speed.

He goes straight to his sister, eyes raking over her body after injuries. She seems more annoyed than hurt, though, which is always a good sign. "Are you all right?" he asks.

"Barely," Rebekah grumbles. "The attackers knew me, Elijah. Not me, me, but this." She opens her arms, gesturing towards herself. "Her, whoever she is. They want her dead."

"We will find them and show them why their anger is unwise," he offers, matter-of-factly.

"You don't want to mess with that crowd," Marcel says. "We want answers, we need to ask Josephine Larue. She serves as matriarch to the covens outside the Quarter. She'll know who wants Rebekah dead."

"How can you be so sure?" Rebekah inquires.

"She bankrolls the Fauline cottage. She'll know exactly who you are and why you were locked up in there."

"And if she wants to lock me right back up? I won't go back to that horrid place," she says with her customary resolve, stomping her foot.

"The two of you go see what you can find about this body you now possess," Elijah tells them, already formulating his next steps. Like he didn't have enough problems already. At the very least this gives him something to deal with that will keep him out of Niklaus' hair for the time being. He cannot guarantee he won't accidentally let his fists swing if he is forced into yet another childish brawl with his spoilt brother. "I shall pay a visit to Josephine. A warning to you." He turns to Rebekah cupping her face gently. "You are not who you once were. This body is all too vulnerable. Don't go testing its limits."

He places a kiss on his sister's forehead before he leaves, but Marcel calls him back. "Josephine is an eccentric old bat with no love for vampires," he admonishes. "Your charms might not work as well as you think."

Elijah cocks him an unimpressed eyebrow. "My charms are quite adaptable, Marcellus, let me assure you."

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"Can't we just bring wine?" Gia asks around a dejected sigh as she puts her violin back in its case. "Or coffee cake? Bundt cake? Any kind of cake?"

Elijah flips through the scores in his hands distractedly, making sure that he has the correct one. His investigations about Josephine Larue were hasty but quite thorough.

"From what I can gather, Miss Larue was something of a musical prodigy in her youth. The way to her heart is with the music she loves the most. Beethoven sonata number 8, opus 47," he says, handing the scores over to her.

"How about I bring my laptop, speakers and a drumbeat?"

"The promise of your performance is what has opened the door for us. If this fails, the life of someone I care deeply for will be in jeopardy, and that would displease me immensely." Elijah snaps his fingers at her, swirling around on his heels. "Shall we move, please?"

"No." He turns back, eyebrows arched in surprise at Gia's refusal. "Why don't you make both our lives easier and just compel someone from the symphony,” she suggests, annoyance biting into her tone. “I  _ hate _ Beethoven."

Elijah leans against a wooden column in the middle of his new and spacious living area. "My darling Gia... You are an artist, far more gifted than anyone from any local symphony. Unfortunately, Miss Larue despises vampires, so we need to show her that our community is of a different breed, with a new sophistication."

She almost rolls her eyes, but refrains from doing so. Elijah should be incredibly bored by how much Gia refuses to engage with anything that even so much as resembles the so-called  _ refined arts _ . Someone with her musical genius should be all over the classics, but that's not where her heart lies. She's a jazz woman, would rather play on the streets for change or at jazz clubs than at a crowded theater.

He, himself, loves a good classic. For some reason, however, he finds himself drawn to her character. She has a strong personality, despite not being much of an extrovert, and the more they get to know each other, the more she reveals to him traces of that fierce temper of hers. At first, she was all polite deference; now she dares to question his requests. Her insolence is... Rather alluring, he has to say, if an inconvenience. Although he's yet to understand why.

"Sophisticated, huh? I suppose you'll want me in a dress?"

Elijah purses his lips, pretending to consider. "Do I want you in a dress? Hmm... We should adapt to our audiences, yes."

"What about you? Dark suit on the left side of your closet or identical dark suit on the right?" She gasps in mock-surprise.

Elijah's lips pull into a short little grin in spite of himself. "I prefer the one in the middle, thank you so much."

Gia snorts, shaking her head as she stands up. "Man... If anyone ever needed a woman to mess his life up a bit..." Her face steels and then crumples, color rising to her cheeks. "Right. I heard. The girl you... Is the same one who..."

"Yes."

"Had a baby with your brother."

"Let’s not discuss this."

She dips her head, offering him a tight, apologetic smile. "For what is worth, I thought Marcel and I had a thing going on, but that didn't work out. We may not be in the same boat, but it's the same ocean."

She shrugs, picks up her violin and marches out. Elijah stays back for a second, a little stunned, before following her.

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After all that protest and of having whined all the way to Josephine Larue's mansion, when Gia leans her violin on the curve of her neck and shuts her eyes, magic happens. It's like the world stops turning, everything goes quiet to listen to her. She  _ feels _ the music in a way not many musicians do, which is why she does such a superb job even when given a piece she detests. The tunes do not come from her fingers, but from somewhere deep within. It speaks of an innate talent, rather than one born out of excessive practice. It's mesmerizing.

It also causes no harm that Gia looks so absolutely stunning in her choice of attire. From her favored tomboy style to an elegant cocktail dress, with her hair pulled up, seamlessly.

Elijah could stay here all day listening to her music. And apparently so could Miss Larue. Her electric blue eyes are overbright, brimming with emotion as Gia plays on. But despite how impressed she is with Gia's talent, she seems far from pliant to their cause.

"You are as calculating as I heard, Mr. Mikaelson, having your companion play the very piece I once performed to great acclaim," she tells him in a toneless, calm voice, with a polite smile that lacks any warmth. But for that moment of vulnerability while Gia played, she's been absolutely unreadable.

"Is it not also a piece that you enjoy?" he asks.

"It's best not to insult ties more powerful than you, which is the only reason I allowed you into my home." The elderly woman stands to her feet, and so does Elijah. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have many things to do."

"My goodness, I had expected a more cordial welcome here."

She tilts her head to the side, those cold eyes of her drilling into his. "And why would I be cordial to you? Since your family has returned to this city, our elders have been murdered, promising young witches have been either turned into vampires or inhabited against their will."

"And I can put an end to all of it."

"With all due respect, I can believe that as much as I can believe I will play my violin again someday." She lifts her hands, showing him her severe disability. She's suffered some kind of trauma that has deformed all her fingers on both her hands, rendering her incapable of playing again. "Because, Mr. Mikaelson, beneath your formal attire and behind the lovely Beethoven, you are all the same... Liars. Monsters wearing the skins of humans. Good day to you both." She nods her head at them and turns on her back.

"Miss Larue, we needn't be unpleasant," Elijah says, his voice sharpening in an instant.

"I hold no animosity nor do I want to do you any favors. I simply want you to leave my home."

"Screw her, Elijah," Gia, who had been a quiet bystander thus far, snaps. "I don't see a friggin' crown on her head."

Josephine turns to her, narrowing her eyes. "I beg your pardon."

"You're not the queen of the witches. You don't speak for all of them," Gia says, shrugging dismissively. "You know, I can't believe I dressed up and learned how to play Beethoven for this. I hate Beethoven."

Josephine quirks an eyebrow, turning her body and all her attention to Gia. Elijah takes a step back. "And what do you like, young lady? If not Beethoven, then what?"

Gia lifts her violin again and starts playing a jazzy tune, one Elijah has watched her perform before, the one time he went to see her play at a club. Josephine's face seems to light up at once.

"Eddie South," she says, with near reverence, an honest smile creeping up her lips. "That makes you a true jazz girl."

Gia frowns. "You know Eddie South?"

"At one time, I nearly eloped with a jazz musician. My mother learned of my plans and, uh... Let's just say, she wasn't pleased." Josephine takes a step closer to Gia, her expression suddenly open with clear delight. "Your candor is refreshing. I find most vampires to be more calculating - no offense."

"None taken," Elijah says. "I also, on occasion, admire her candor."

Gia exchanges a knowing grin with him. "He has great taste. He's also a man you can trust, and I say that as someone who doesn't trust easily. Or at all, really."

Josephine regards him, assessing. "I suppose I should just hear you out, Mr. Mikaelson."

They all go back to her living room as he tells her about the situation with an escaped witch from the Fauline cottage. He wasn't aware that Rebekah wasn't the only one who managed to flee with Freya's intervention. They have more criminal and deranged witches on the loose.

Josephine asks for one of her employees to produce a folder, containing documents on all the witches currently kept at the cottage. The man walks back into the room a moment later and hands him the file.

"One of the witches that escaped is of particular importance to my family,” he says, flipping through the documents inside. “My request to you... Tell your people to leave her to me."

"You have no idea how dangerous these witches can be."

"She will cause you no further trouble; I can assure you that. In return, I shall find all the remaining witches and deliver them safely back to you. Consider this the first step..." His eyes stop on a paper with a photograph of Rebekah's new host's face. The expression is completely different from that which she sports as his sister. The woman in the photo seems... Wicked. He passes the document on to Josephine before continuing. "... in a new and mutually beneficial alliance."

"Eva Sinclair," she says. "Powerful and sadistic. If I am to relinquish someone like her into your custody, I will require someone equally powerful in return. The Treme covens want Vincent Griffith returned. How you expel your brother Finn from his body is your concern."

"Consider it done," Elijah replies, not missing a beat. It only comes to him a second later that he hasn't the slightest idea how he's supposed to accomplish that.

Looks like he'll be needing Niklaus, after all.

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What is that saying about if you want something done right, do it yourself?

Already that werewolf alliance is proving to be just a huge waste of Klaus' time and resources, not to mention a precious portion of his limited patience. He had to endure the torment of that ceremony, Elijah's subsequent petulance and Caroline being all defensive of her wolf knight in flannel armor, and he can't even count on Jackson Kenner to make it all worth it by doing things with an acceptable degree of competence.

His group's incursion to the cemetery after Finn was pitiful, and the only reason it didn't end in complete tragedy was because Klaus had the initiative to approach Aiden, who was in charge of the party, with some invaluable  _ tips _ . Jackson's strategy would've gotten all of his men killed on sight. That's the man Caroline calls an  _ alpha _ . Honestly, that title used to mean something back in the old days. The once great Crescents sure have gone downhill from the golden days of yore. It's a disgrace to the memory of Lana, the female Crescent alpha he used to strike rather delightful bargains with back in the early 1900s.

Since leaving the task to lesser hands proved fruitless, Klaus might as well go and get his own hands dirty, as usual. At least this way he knows the job will be  _ done _ . It seems no matter how large an army he has, it's still not safe to trust anybody else's judgement over his own. So be it. He won't mind finishing Finn off himself. He and his big brother have some reckoning to do.

Just as he's entering the cemetery, his phone rings. He expects it to be Caroline, no doubt to share the sad story of how some of Jackson's men came to perish in Finn's tombs by the hands of Mikael, who has once more risen to add torment to their woes, details Aiden has already filled him in. He is surprised by a call from Elijah, instead. His brother hasn't gotten in direct touch with him in days. Klaus gets mildly curious about what it could be, but decides to leave it for later. One rebellious brother at a time.

"Finn!" he calls out as he prowls between the labyrinthine rows of tombs at Lafayette Cemetery. "I know you're here! The wolves tell me you've been quite active robbing graves and violating corpses. Sounds like you. Why don't you come out so we can finish this?!"

"Hello, Niklaus."

He knew he'd be easy to lure out of hiding. Finn's arrogance has taken the best of him since he was revived by their mother, and he never had that many qualities to begin with.

"Such a pedestrian greeting," he says, marching towards his brother. "How unfortunate those are to be your last words."

"Your hubris truly knows no bounds. You would attack a witch at the very place that the ancestors call home?"

"You're a fool if you think the ancestors give a damn about you."

"They may not care for me, brother... But they hate you more."

Finn uses a spell to send a giant fireball towards him, burning down everything in its wake. It's quite cinematic, Klaus has to say. But unfortunately - for Finn, that is - too slow for a hybrid. Klaus easily dodges the fire by jumping on top of one of the tombs.

"You lost your step, brother," he barks at the other man. "But then being blown to pieces will do that, I suppose."

Klaus lunges at Finn, but his brother rips a piece of metal from one of the fences around the tomb and sends it flying towards Klaus like a spear. It pierces his chest in three different places. Klaus grunts as he is knocked back against a tomb, spitting blood.

"Finished so soon, my indestructible brother?" Finn says, his voice drenched in poison. "Father was right about you. You're nothing but a pathetic disappointment."

"You judge me?!" he snarls back. "You, who cursed Kol to death? But you didn't stop there, did you?! As an encore, you sought the death of an innocent child,  _ your own blood _ , and yet you accuse  _ me _ of being a monster!"

"I was doing you a favor!" Finn fires back, his eyes flashing with furious righteousness. He is so far beyond madness he genuinely believes his fabrications. "You would thank me one day for saving us all from Dahlia! You have no idea the kind of curse you'll bring upon not only our family, but anyone who dares stand in her way! I would've been satisfied with eliminating that threat alone. Now, however... I will have to make you pay for that nastiness you and Elijah pulled. I won't just be taking your daughter... I will complete the task mother's acolytes failed to do six months ago and kill Caroline Forbes, once and for all. You will suffer, Niklaus, for your arrogance and your selfishness, this I promise you."

Klaus grits his teeth, a thunderous roar ripping from his chest as he pulls the iron fencing out, anger spiking hot inside of him. He breaks one of the poles and, aiming for his brother's chest, he throws it with all his might. Without the power of Esther and Mikael boosting him, Finn cannot react fast enough. The makeshift spear pierces him right under his heart. He tumbles to the ground, blood running down the side of his lips and a look of sheer disbelief in his eyes.

Klaus flashes over to him, smashing him back against a tomb, knocking the wind off of him. He wraps his fingers around the iron pole, twisting it up and rejoicing in the impossible pain contorting his brother's face, before pulling it out at once.

"For what you would've done to my family, I'm going to enjoy making you suffer," he grits out.

He lifts his arm, ready to stab Finn once more - the side this time, perhaps hitting a kidney, something that will cause him terrible suffering, but won't kill him straight away; he wants to take his time here. Before he can do it, someone jumps over him, violently shoving him away from Finn, who slides down to the ground, totally boneless.

Elijah puts a hand on his shoulder as he pushes him back up against a tomb. "You didn't answer my call."

"Well, I was a little bit busy," he snaps. Finn lies in complete agony, coughing blood, his breath a ragged whizz. Klaus must have pierced his lungs the first time.

"I need him alive," Elijah says.

Klaus jerks out of his brother’s grip. "I have no time for your soft-hearted sympathies. Stand aside." Elijah squares his shoulders, staring him dead in the eyes. "We've been here before, Elijah. Are we to do this again? I can understand you standing up to defend Rebekah, but Finn? That cockroach who would've killed my daughter? Let him die."

"The witches want that body returned unharmed. You kill him, we lose Vincent Griffith."

"And what else do the witches want? A parade? Free broomsticks for all?! What do they think this is, a charity?"

"This is to protect our sister, Niklaus. An alliance with them could be greatly beneficial to us all."

"Aligning myself to them is what has brought us to this mess to begin with. Currying some witch's favor does not concern me."

"It should," says a woman, walking up to them. She looks at both him and Elijah as though they're old friends, with a self-possessed posture that causes a terrible first impression on Klaus.

She doesn't have to introduce herself for him to know exactly who she is.

_ Freya _ .

Despite the attitude that rubs him wrongly, he understands now what Rebekah said; there  _ is _ a strange sort of familiarity about her. It doesn't make him any more sympathetic, however. Quite the opposite. Klaus immediately decides he doesn’t like or trust her, whoever she may be.

She walks by them, stepping over to Finn, still agonizing on the ground. As soon as he sees her, he lifts a shaky hand. "Freya..." he breathes out. "Freya, help me."

"Don't worry, brother. I won't let them hurt you." She holds a blue pendant around her neck and starts chanting lowly. In a moment, Finn is convulsing on the floor. When he stops, his eyes grow wide and somehow softer, that malicious glint gone as he looks around in sheer fear. He tries to sit up and lets out a loud moan as the injury in his chest prevents him, lying back down with his hands up in surrender.

"Sleep," she tells him, waving a hand in the air. Finn falls back down, unconscious.

Klaus takes a step forward. "What did you do to him?"

"Finn is now safe from harm," she says, holding her pendant. "His hatred can no longer do damage to our cause."

" _ Our _ cause?" Elijah queries.

"Yes. Ours. And now if you two can stop arguing long enough, perhaps you'll allow your older sister to offer you a deal."

Klaus' lips twist in distaste. The last thing he needs in his life is yet another older sibling trying to manage him. "What could you possibly offer us besides fairy tales and lies?"

Freya's eyes harden. "Whatever you may think of me, brother, know this: when I speak to you, it is the truth. If you have any doubts, remember it was I who rescued Rebekah from the Fauline cottage."

"And was it not also you who led Finn on his vile mission to take my daughter's life?" he fires back.

Freya flinches slightly. "The threat to Eve came from Finn, not me. The brother I knew would never have stooped to threatening a child." Klaus' fists curl next to his body at his daughter's name in this woman's mouth. "Our mother destroyed him. Like she did me, you, everything she touched."

"Do not speak as though we are familiars," he grits out dangerously. "We know nothing of you."

Freya puts both her hands out and Klaus is pulled into a memory, like an image has suddenly been conjured inside his head. He sees a woman - Esther, looking extraordinarily young - outside a cottage, under thick snowfall. A little boy cries his heart out as she holds his hand firmly in hers. It takes Klaus a moment to realize the toddler is Finn. While the boy cries, another woman, with long brown hair, drags away a little girl with blonde curls. She kicks and screams and tries to wriggle her way out of the woman's grasp as she calls out for her mother, but the woman's grip is too strong.

"I cannot give up my child!" Esther yells after the woman, an edge of despair in her voice. "Dahlia, no! Give me her back!  _ Freya _ !"

The image vanishes and Klaus is brought back to the cemetery. He looks at Elijah, who's got his eyes trained on the woman, and realizes she must have shown him the same thing.

"Do you still think me a liar?" the woman who calls herself Freya asks.

"That proves nothing but your ability to conjure illusions," Klaus says dismissively, far from impressed by her little magic trick.

Freya pins him under a stern look, chin jutted out. "Before you dismiss me, you should know this. If I have woken from my slumber, then Dahlia has as well. Once she's sensed your child's magic, she will come for her, and she has the power to kill anyone who stands in her way, including you two, the child's mother and your entire werewolf army. Unless we kill her first."

"That's quite convenient, isn't it? You show up in the nick of time to help us kill the woman with whom you spent a thousand years - assuming, of course, that there's any truth to your spectacular claims."

"You have no idea what it took to escape her, or what I lost in the trying," Freya says darkly. "Her punishment will be profound."

"And you know how to stop her?" Elijah asks.

Freya softens her eyes as she turns to their brother, perhaps sensing a receptivity in his pitifully compassionate heart that she wouldn't find in Klaus. Elijah is such a fool.

"Given the proper materials, yes," Freya provides. "I've sent father to procure them."

"Father?" Klaus snarls. "You would put the life of my child in the hands of Mikael and expect me to collaborate?"

That's as much as he can take of this nonsense. His time is better served elsewhere.

"Niklaus," Elijah says as he makes to leave. "This woman has knowledge of the threat we now face and is willing to share that information. I don't think we're in a position to turn her down."

"You'll excuse me if I'm not inclined to trust the mysterious sister we only just met, but by all means, if you wish to entertain this idiocy, have at it."

Klaus casts a last venomous glance towards  _ Freya _ , then blurs away from there. He hopes his message has been well received.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline pushes the door to the nursery open to check on Eve and finds Klaus already there, standing close to the crib with a calm expression gracing his features as he watches her sleep.

He left in a hurry a while back without saying where he was going and she'd been waiting for him to come home to share the news on how disastrous the wolves' mission at the cemetery had gone. No doubt he'll have strong  _ opinions _ on it. Jackson was inconsolable - angry at their ineffectiveness, heartbroken that they'd lost one of the guys. But it could've been a lot worse if Aiden hadn't disrespected the strict orders he was given and gone with his own gut feeling, splitting the group apart to search the premises. If Mikael had found all of them together, it would've been a slaughter. That was probably the part that made Jackson most upset: to think he'd sent his men to certain death while he stayed behind to guard Eve.

"A woman saved Aiden's life," he told her grimly. "He doesn't know who she was. Just that she showed up and told Mikael to leave him be."

Caroline can't think of many people The Destroyer would obey out of his own volition like this, but she can hazard a guess. Freya, the brand new Mikaelson thorn in their side.

Anticipating a brawl of epic proportions, she told Jackson to go home, take care of his men and leave her to deliver the news to Klaus. Not that she's looking forward to doing it herself, but... Well. At least she can count on Klaus not ripping  _ her _ head off, a privilege he does not extend to Jackson, for sure.

She wraps her robe around herself and nods her head for him to follow her outside into the walkway so they can talk without waking the baby. Eve literally just fell asleep after spending hours on end howling from the top of her little lungs. Caroline might've shed a few desperate tears herself, questioning her abilities as a mother until, just like magic, Eve clamped her mouth shut and dozed off. There's a peace in seeing her baby sleep after fussing for hours that is like nothing Caroline had ever experienced before.

"You will be pleased to know that Finn is no longer a problem," Klaus tells her as soon as she shuts the door behind them.

Caroline blinks at him. "Really? Is he dead?"

"Out of commission, I would say. And no longer occupying Vincent Griffith's body." Before she can allow a spark of joy to take over, Klaus adds, "However, there are other dangers in the horizon."

Caroline sighs, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans sideways against the railing. "You don't say. What is the Mikaelson threat of the hour?"

"My father is on the loose again."

"Yeah, I've heard. He killed one of Jack's guys."

"I need you to use your pack to find him."

"No."

Klaus tilts a strange look at her. "No?"

"It's not my pack and I won't ask Jackson to send any more of his men after Mikael. We did that today and he already lost one of his best guys. We could've lost Aiden. We can't let any more wolves die chasing after a vampire killer."

Klaus' expression hardens. "Mikael is a threat to our child."

"Mikael is a threat to vampires. He wants you, Elijah,  _ me _ , but I don't think he's gonna come for our child or for the werewolves. The pack will be here to protect Eve if he does, but we can't use them to settle old scores that do not concern them at all."

Klaus draws a sharp intake of air through his nose, staring her dead in the eye with a dark look. "Let me be as clear as possible. Your pack, your friends, your alpha, are necessary means to safeguard this compound for our daughter, but I am  _ not _ running a charity hostel here. If they are not fighting on my side, then they will not remain alive to fight at all."

Caroline's temper spikes, going from zero to 100 in a second. As Klaus tries to brush by her to storm off, no doubt to go sulk with a glass and his brushes, as he's done so many times this week, Caroline feels her patience drop to dangerous levels. She puts an arm out and pushes him back, taking a step into his personal space, her gaze as sharp as knives. "We'll do whatever we need to do to keep our daughter safe. But if you ever,  _ ever _ , try to use her or these threats - which I hope to God are as empty as your logic - to manipulate me again into doing what you want... Mikael will be the least of your problems."

Caroline whirls around and goes back to her room, shutting the door behind her. If what Klaus has been after by being insufferable all week was to spend the night on his own, then he just got his wish granted.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I take it you got your guy," Gia says as she turns around for Elijah to help her out of her coat.

He realizes that it wasn't  _ entirely _ necessary for him to share the outcome of their assignment at Madame Larue's today, a simple phone call would have sufficed. But he was feeling unusually sociable this evening, and Gia was a rather pleasant company, fulfilling her duty to perfection, so - why not offer her a drink in gratitude? Can't hurt to cultivate new friendships.

"Vincent Griffith is alive and free of my brother's influence. I healed him with my blood, he should make a full recovery soon and, once I've questioned him to my satisfaction, I shall release him once again to the witches' custody, safe and sound."

Elijah leaves Gia to make herself comfortable in his living room while he hangs both their coats and takes off his jacket.

"So it all worked out, and yet I don't recall hearing  _ Nice job, Gia. Really appreciate the help _ ," she says, a cheeky grin on her face as she takes a seat, crossing her legs.

"Yes, forgive me," he says, returning with two beers. "I was a little tied up, trying to prevent Niklaus from being... Well, Niklaus. Yes, nice job, Gia. Really appreciate the help."

She smiles proudly, sipping from her bottle. "You like beer?"

Elijah makes a face as he drinks from his. He'll probably never understand why people would rather have a beer when they could be indulging in a fine Bordeaux or a good whiskey instead, but... "I'm adapting to my audience.”

Gia shifts on the couch so she is facing him. "You knew Josephine would like me. It was almost like you could predict she would act like a jerk and I would snap at her and that, just like magic, that would turn the tides in our favor. Are you psychic?"

Elijah's lips tug upwards into a lopsided grin as he takes a seat beside her. "Merely observant. Once upon a time, Josephine was rather rebellious. This is a trait that you seem to exhibit in spades. However, circumstances all but extinguished that quality in her. Had she known that you were coming, she never would've welcomed us into her home, nor would she have been swayed by your... What is it she called?"

"My candor," Gia provides, chuckling.

He nods. "Your candor, right."

"Is everything always ten steps ahead of the game with you?"

"Often, victory is allowing your opponent to believe that they are triumphant until they're not." He points his bottle at her before chugging it back. "Here's another lesson for you."

"Ok," she drawls. "Just remember who sealed the deal."

"Credit where credit's due."

They clink their bottles together, falling into a stretch of companionable silence. Elijah still has the weight of a thousand different problems over his shoulders, but tonight he feels lighter than most. Certainly more carefree than he has in a very long time. Being at his own place has offered him a sanctuary away from his family's problems and his brother's tempestuous mood swings. He does miss the compound, of course - Caroline, most of all, and the chance to spend more time with his niece. But each day he grows more certain that he made the right choice in moving out. He needed this distance, if anything then to clear his mind and gain some much-relished perspective.

In a way, that's exactly what Gia offers: fresh air. She's neither a Mikaelson nor does she hold ties with his family's complicated dynamics. She hardly knows anything about them. Even the way she looks at him is different than most. Being close to an Original means nothing to her. What he used to read as blatant disrespect for one of her sirers was, in fact, ignorance. Once he was able to brush his ego aside, he realized he actually envied Gia. Most days, Elijah wishes he could forget who he is as well, wonders what it would be like to live not as a Mikaelson, but as a simple man, no history, no strings attached. It's but a silly fantasy, of course. As Niklaus said to Kol, Always and Forever isn't something one wriggles their way out of. But it doesn't mean he cannot dream, even if through the eyes of another.

What he's come to realize recently is that, despite his pride, Elijah likes the person he is when Gia looks at him. It's a bit like Caroline, but in a different fashion. Caroline had a long history with his family, was well aware of everything they represent and stand for, long before he ever crossed paths with her, but she simply did not care. She would stand her ground against their whims, was never afraid to speak her mind, never bent under the pressure of the thousand years they carried with them. Her spunk and contempt for their status as the so-called  _ vampire royalty _ was a given. Just as is Gia's disregard. But while it was all very deliberate on Caroline's part, on Gia's it is totally unintentional. One isn't better than the other, it's just... Different. And after a millennium of enjoying all the perks of being who he is, his tired bones find themselves comfortable in the face of such oddity.

"Can I ask you something?" Gia queries after a moment. Elijah arches his eyebrows at her. "Something personal."

"You may ask. I may not answer."

"Marcel told me the story. You, Klaus and the vampire mom."

"Caroline."

"Caroline, right," she nods. "Well, you're... You. And Klaus is...  _ Klaus _ . While Caroline is..."

"Caroline?"

"A ray of sunshine. Not a single golden curl out of place," Gia says with a deadpan, making it obvious she doesn't rate that as much of a quality. "I don't really know her, but everyone speaks  _ very _ highly of her. Marcel likes her. Josh likes her. Davina. Camille. The wolves hate anything that drinks blood and they all but kneeled at her feet in that ceremony."

"Are you randomly waxing praise at Caroline or is there a point?"

"How is she with your brother and not with you?" she blurts out.

"Is that your fumbling attempt to pay me a compliment?" he asks with a smirk, deflecting the question.

"I'm genuinely confused," she replies with a serious face.

Elijah sighs, looking away from Gia as he considers his answer. "She met my brother long before she met me. It was never really a question."

"Still doesn't make any sense to me. Klaus is this bottomless pit of darkness. I don't think I've ever seen him  _ not _ being cranky or a straight-out jerk. And when he looks like he's fine,  _ snap _ and he's barking at someone. How come, given the choice, she goes for...  _ that _ ?"

Elijah smiles with casual amusement. "I'm sure you of all people can understand the allure of darkness, Gia. You've certainly noticed my brother is an intense man. When someone like Niklaus shows a deep-rooted affection for someone, it's... Hard to ignore it. But you're mistaken if you think I'm not as shrouded in darkness as he is. If not more." Gia gives him an unimpressed look, pursing her lips. "That's a common mistake. Niklaus simply cannot be bothered to dull out the sharper edges of his personality for the sake of others while I believe in a more diplomatic approach. What was it that you said to me earlier today? That I needed a woman -"

"To mess you up," she finishes, a light blush on her cheeks.

"Yes," Elijah grins softly. "Well. Caroline does for Niklaus the exact opposite. All my brother knows is mayhem. Chaos. It's what drives him, propels him forward, and I can only imagine how exhausting it must be to live in his head, considering how tiresome it is just to be around him. Caroline... She smooths his wrinkles. Casts light upon the endlessly dark parts of his soul. She is the calm in the eye of the storm. I think he needs that more than he needs air in his lungs. And it doesn't go unappreciated. He is a difficult man, but he values her. He values her a lot."

Gia seems thoughtful for a moment. "I just thought... Since you're all straight lines and fitted suits... That someone like Little Miss Sunshine, who's all perfect hair and bright blue eyes, would be an obvious fit."

Elijah smiles as he sips from his beer. "You make the same mistake most people make about Caroline upon first glance. To pin her under the beauty queen label and think that is all she is. She is undoubtedly beautiful, but her looks and her bright smiles often detract from what are, in truth, her greatest qualities. You shouldn't underestimate her. Caroline is kind-hearted, but she is cunning, strong-willed, extremely brave. And she also has quite a temper of her own."

"Sorry, didn't mean to offend," Gia says, gesticulating in an apologetic manner. "It's just I've met people like her my whole life, they've never been very kind to me. I don't exactly fit in with the popular kids."

"Perhaps you just haven't met the right people. But your assessment about me is equally mistaken."

"Oh?"

"I'm not as neat or as straight-lined as you might think," he says, pulling on his tie with one hand.

Gia's eyes follow his movement, staying on his neck while he struggles to loosen up the knot. When she looks up again, her smile turns suggestive, her eyes flashing with interest. As though making a decision, she puts her beer down on the center table and then reaches out to remove his tie for him, her fingers brushing lightly against his skin.

She keeps her eyes firmly on his as she stands to her feet. "You never told me if you like me in this dress."

A lazy smile breaks onto his lips as he takes her in. He'd obviously noticed how stunning she looks in the form-fitting dress, but he'd kept it professional thus far. Now, however... He doesn't bother hiding his true appreciation. "You're right, I didn't,” he says. “You look ravishing.”

That awards him one of her mysterious smiles, a hint of mischief dancing at the edge of her dark eyes. Then turns her back to him. "Zipper's stuck. Help me out of it?"

Elijah doesn't know why, but he hesitates for a second. They went from talking about Caroline to her asking him to help her out of her dress a bit too fast for him to fully grasp it. When it finally hits him, however, it's like coming up for air after eons drowning under the water. Lust sweeps over Elijah, shaking him from the inside out.

It has been so fucking long...

In a fluid motion, he puts down his bear and positions himself behind Gia. He catches the hitch in her breath when he touches her, breathing against her skin as he pulls the zipper all the way down. Elijah slides the dress off her shoulders, and Gia leans back against him, tilting her head to the side to expose the long, beautiful curve of her neck.

Elijah's heart thumps with anticipation. For the first time in months, all he gets is the heat of arousal, a burning desire licking him up inside, sending a familiar tingle down his underbelly, making him salivate with wanton need. There's no fear, no regret, no shame. No embarrassing thoughts flashing through his mind. It's just pure, animalistic  _ want _ . And so he gives in to it.

He buries his face in her neck, kissing the soft skin there, Gia arching her back against him as his hands slide down the side of her body until he finds the hem of her skirt, pulling it upwards. She wriggles in his arms, turning around and cupping his face with both her hands. Elijah sees it in her dark eyes, so vivid, the perfect reflection of what he feels right before she takes his mouth in a demanding kiss, wrapping herself around him, one of her legs pushing between his own until her thigh is firmly rubbing against his front. She moans sinfully into his mouth when she feels what she's doing to him, and the kiss turns hungrier, messier and oh so good.

One of Elijah's hands bury into her hair, his fingers winding through her mane and pulling lightly on it, while the other hand travels up her skirt, grabbing tightly on the firm shape of her ass. Suddenly he can't remember anymore why he's gone for so long without doing this, why it took him  _ months _ to look at Gia this way. Even Caroline saw it before he did, which is... Ironic, to say the least, considering she was probably part of the reason why he couldn't see what was right before his eyes all this time.

But Gia is not Caroline. They're different in every single way. And she drives Elijah crazy with the way she claims his mouth, with how her small frame fits perfectly against him.

There's something very lonely about her, and it resonates deeply within Elijah. She wants to find her calm in the middle of the storm as well. Perhaps they might find it together. Even if just for a brief, perfect moment.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus throws a crumpled one hundred bill over the counter at the bartender working the late shift at Rousseau's. "There you go, sweetheart," he says with a pleasant smile. The girl takes the bill, tucks it inside her bra with an extra show of her cleavage, probably thinking she might get more from him than just a nice tip. Klaus barely casts a glance at her bosom, though. As soon as she puts the bottle of bourbon in front of him, he forgets she's even there, his attention all trained on the man beside him.

Klaus pours two glasses, pushes one towards Aiden. He is stiff as a twig, the poor lad, rapping his knuckles nervously against the counter, eying Klaus with nothing short of suspicion. Every once in a while, he'll look over his shoulder, afraid to get caught - although, to all intents and purposes, they're not doing anything wrong. Aiden is stationed at his house most of the time, there’s no crime in heading out for a drink or two. Still, Klaus took precautions. The bar is completely empty, they're the last ones there. The girl agreed to let them stay in exchange for more of those crumpled bills she's getting. In his case, it's not Jackson he's concerned with, but rather a blonde with strong opinions on how he handles her werewolf friends. He's lucky Camille is not working tonight, or she'd certainly tell on him.

Doubtful though he may be, however, Aiden still showed up, which means he is, at the very least, eager to hear what Klaus has to say. It's a promising start. All he needs is to loosen up a bit. That's what the alcohol is for.

He watches as Aiden knocks back his drink almost all at once. A gracious smile spreads slowly over Klaus’ lips.

"You know, for centuries werewolf alphas have lived as kings of a frightened and cursed people, forced to change every month on a full moon, but now your pack is cured. You can change at will. You are at peace. And yet Jackson takes his leadership for granted. He doesn't see that we live in a new world, which is precisely why the wolves need a new leader, someone chosen  _ by _ the wolves to guide them into the future. Someone like you." He leans closer. "I can help you become the leader your pack deserves."

Aiden huffs out a sardonic little laugh. "Yeah? And what's in it for you?"

Klaus purses his lips. "In return, I would only ask that you and your pack swear to protect my daughter and the woman whose powers have allowed you to smooth into this new era. That is all I will ever ask of you because that is all that matters to me. You can let me know when you're ready, but do bear in mind that time is forever ticking forward, which means that tomorrow..." He taps a finger twice over Aiden's wristwatch. "Is already here."

Aiden stares at him blankly, but Klaus can see it in his eyes that he's tempted. He noticed this in the young man from the very beginning, how ambitious he is, how much he enjoys being at the forefront of things. He claims the only reason he ever joined Esther's army was because he wanted to protect his family; bollocks, Klaus says. He wanted the  _ power _ . He rose to command quickly, even above Oliver, became Finn's most trusted ally, even though he was double-crossing him the whole time, because he has that fire inside of him. Klaus would know; he has it himself.

Jackson, on the other hand, doesn't. He wants things to remain as they are, for the wolves to be happy with whatever scraps they are given. Even this ceremony which granted his people their long fought-for freedom wasn't his idea, but Caroline's. All Jackson Kenner cares about is chasing after her like a lapdog and countering Klaus' every decision, and that just won't do. He needs someone more open to his influence, someone who will, perhaps, feel more grateful, someone he can  _ mentor _ . And, well, it also helps that Aiden is not at all interested in Caroline. At least he won't have to be annoyed with him constantly hanging around her.

Klaus can tell that being demoted to just another pack member has bothered Aiden to no end, after being given a taste of command. Some people might see that as lack of discipline and rebellion; to him, it seems like an opportunity.

If Jackson is the problem, then all they need to do is remove Jackson. But Elijah was right; Caroline won't hesitate to stand against him if anything happens to her dear friend. For reasons that are beyond comprehension, she's become  _ fond _ of that dull sod. No, Klaus can't hurt him. He'll have to be demoted from his position as alpha by his own people. The way things are going, all it might take is a little push.

He finishes his drink at the bar, throws the by then merely annoyed bartender another bill and then heads back home. It's the wee hours of the night, and the only people still awake are the werewolves standing guard. He makes his way to the baby's room with soft steps, pushing the door open just a tiny bit to check that Eve’s asleep, but he finds the crib empty. A crease immediately dents his forehead as he straightens his posture, sobering up rather quickly. Klaus goes into the baby's room and then through the other door, the one leading directly to Caroline's bedroom, and there he finally lets out a relieved breath.

His daughter is fast asleep on the bed, sandwiched between a pile of pillows and her mother, sleeping on her side, an arm folded under her head. He takes in the scene in all its details - the way the faint light from a lamp bathes them in a golden hue; how one of Caroline's hands rests next to Eve's, almost touching; how absolutely peaceful the two of them are, heart beating in unison. Eve looks so much like her mother... He suddenly feels like reaching for pencil and paper.

This, he thinks, is exactly what he is fighting for. So that the two of them will always be graced with quiet, peaceful nights such as this. So that they may sleep soundly, knowing that the next morning will always come for them. No one will ever touch his family again. Caroline can grimace and pout at him all she wants, but one day she will thank him, when they get to see their littlest wolf grow up to live a full and happy life with both her parents by her side.

He can't promise not to disappoint them, not to break their hearts, not to make them angry. He knows better than to give his word on promises he knows he can't keep. But this Klaus promises them: he will fight to his last breath to keep them safe, no matter the costs.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! :) If you've made it this far, thank you! If you haven't read **the A/Ns at the beginning, please, do do!**
> 
> I'll be honest. It took me a long time to update this even though I've had this chapter done for a while because I was VERY nervous. Anxiety about this story was off the roof, and 14 seemed like a safe place to stop. This second part has my absolute favorite moments, but I'm definitely scared of the reaction to some parts. So I would really appreciate it if you folks would let me know your thoughts and whether you're interested, if you are.
> 
> I could go into more details about a lot of things, but don't want to talk too much here. If you ever feel like discussing stuff or asking whatever, you may find me on tumblr @ galvanizedfriend or on twitter @__houdini. :) My inbox is always open.
> 
> Kudos are very much appreciated! ❤️
> 
> Thanks very much for reading! ❤️


	16. S02E16 Save My Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks, your positive and encouraging reactions to last chapter were so amazing that I felt inspired to come and work on the final editing of this update! 💖💖💖 Thank you so, so much! :) 
> 
> I must remind you that this story hasn't been beta'ed, although it was kindly read and reviewed by **recyclingss** and **sekretny** , who have given me their 👍👍 seal of approval. 
> 
> I won't be repeating myself here about warnings and such, but if you skipped last chapter's A/N, please take a look.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this quicker update and, if you do, please drop me a note and let me know your thoughts! I am very much looking forward for your reactions. Feedback feeds my soul! 💖

* * *

" _Wow_ ," Caroline marvels under her breath as she enters Elijah's new apartment.

You'd never guess what this place is like just looking from the outside. The area consists of abandoned warehouses and old administration buildings, nothing and no one but the occasional crackhead for miles, although Marcel is in the _neighborhood_ , in a building that, much like this one, tricks you into thinking it’s falling apart rather than housing luxurious lofts. She wonders if that's an old vampire thing, this taste for derelict architecture. The compound is a bit like that, too; it could certainly use some renovations. There, however, it's more on the inside than the outside. Here, it's the opposite. When you walk in... It's almost obscene. Whoever Elijah hired to fix the place for him - at least she hopes he _hired_ them, paying actual money - did a fantastic job, and in record time, too.

Everything reeks of money: the furniture, the decor, the hardwood floors, the art pieces and all the appliances and the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Mississippi. Caroline knows the Mikaelsons are stinking rich, but it still shocks her to see just how much.

The thing that strikes her the most, though, is how different the place feels from the compound. It's modern, clean, like a millionaire bachelor's apartment. Somehow, it feels like _Elijah_ in here, much more so than even his room at the compound did. His personality is just screaming across these walls, while there it was swallowed up by Klaus' louder, more in-your-face features. Then again, what _doesn’t_ get swallowed up by Klaus?

She gets distracted for a while just admiring Elijah's good taste before she remembers she came here for a reason, and they don't have much time. The loft is almost entirely made of an open space, but there's a large door on one end which she guesses must lead to his bedroom, since she doesn't see a bed anywhere out here. Caroline takes tentative steps towards it, not wanting to intrude in case he's busy with whatever. The door is a little ajar, so, craning her neck, she can peek inside.

She sees the end of a ridiculously large unmade bed, charcoal sheets all rumpled, but the bed seems to be empty. She gets a little closer, and then she finally locates Elijah, standing by the window, and - Caroline halts in startling shock, gaping.

He’s not alone.

Her eyes bulge like a cartoon's when she spots him caught in what seems to be a heated make out session with... Gia. _Oh my God._

The woman is fully dressed and he's only shirtless - _thank the Lord_ \- but they look... Well. They look like they had a good night.

With her heart pounding against her ribcage and somewhat exasperated, Caroline backtracks to the door, meaning to get the hell out of there before anyone notices, but ends up bumping into an end table. A vase that probably costs more than her liver in the black-market sways dangerously, and she gasps, loudly, reaching out to catch it.

"Caroline?"

She curses under her breath, her whole face scrunching up into a grimace as she puts the vase back on its place. Caroline feels her cheeks burning furiously with embarrassment before she turns around with an apologetic look. "Hi," she says meekly, attempting a smile but not entirely sure she's getting it right.

Elijah blinks at her, with Gia standing beside him looking completely mortified. _Fuck_. She just blew this, didn't she?

"I'm sorry," she offers. "I didn't mean to barge in, it's just - there was no doorbell outside and - you know what? I should've just called. I'm so sorry. I'll just see myself out."

"It's ok," Gia says. "I was just leaving, anyway." She exchanges a look and a timid smile with Elijah before collecting a coat and a violin case and heading for the door. Caroline can't help but notice she's wearing a _really_ nice dress. Did they have a date night? Did she just completely ruin Elijah's morning after? _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

As soon as Gia is gone, Caroline turns back to Elijah with huge eyes, putting her palms together in a plea. "I am _so_ sorry! God, I'm terrible!"

"It's quite alright," he says, deliberately avoiding her gaze as he moves to a clothes rack.

Despite having lived with Elijah for a very long time, she never once saw him in this state of undress. Very occasionally he'd show up wearing something that wasn't a suit, like sweater and jeans, which was strange enough. This is... A bit of a shock, really. Underneath all those ties and pressed button shirts, there's a totally ripped torso. And biceps like _woah_. Do vampires even work out? Does _Elijah_?

_Huh_ , her brain goes, and then she realizes she's been staring while he's looking at her as he puts on his shirt, eyebrows arched up, waiting for her to say something.

Caroline snaps away from him like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar, a fierce flush creeping up her throat. "So," she says, clearing her throat. "Gia, huh?"

"Yes," Elijah offers mildly as he puts on his tie.

As the worst of her embarrassment dissipates and she can finally face him again, Caroline's lips draw into a slow smile, a bubble of excitement bursting inside of her. "Oh my God!" she blurts out, bouncing on her feet.

"Caroline -"

"I _knew_ it! I just _knew_ there was something there! _Ugh_ , I should never doubt my instincts. I'm so good at this! Is that the first time she spends the night?"

Elijah keeps his face perfectly impassive. "I don't kiss and tell."

"But that’s for dudes! I'm not a dude! You can tell me." Elijah turns away from her, shrugging on his jacket. "Oh, come on!" she whines. "I'm so excited!"

"Yes, I can see. Although I cannot imagine why," he says flatly.

"Because! Scandalous sex, Elijah. You are having scandalous sex!"

He sighs. "Is there a reason why you're here or did you just want to..." Elijah trails off, motioning vaguely towards her.

"Oh. Yeah. There's a reason," she says, suddenly pulled back to the issue at hand. She stores away the scandalous sex information for later. "Klaus invited your long-lost sister for brunch."

"I'm aware. My presence has been requested."

"Mine hasn't," she bites out grumpily. "He told me to go to the Bayou to take my new skills for a test drive with the wolves."

"I take it you're not heeding his advice."

"Not a fat chance. And I thought we should talk before you head into this family reunion. He's been acting like an insane person ever since you moved out, even more so than usual, and this morning he was _euphoric_. I think he's up to something and, whatever it is, I don't like it."

"Niklaus, up to something? Color me surprised," he says evenly as he puts on his coat, heading to the door. "Come with me, then. You can tell me all about my brother's latest bout of insanity on the way to Marcel's."

Caroline falls in stride with him. “Why are we going to Marcel's?"

"Because a quiet morning in is apparently too much to ask for. I got a distress call. It seems there are some Treme witches there, and they want to take my sister."

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"Whatever the problem is, if you don't back up, I guarantee you, it's gonna get worse," Marcel tells the witches hoarding around his place. He's got most of his guys to back him up, but he knows if these Treme witches decide to attack, there won't be much they can do to stop them. They’re too many and too powerful. A bunch of rookie vamps can’t take on all of them fast enough. So he keeps his face serious, raises his voice a little and tries to present a confidence he does not feel.

"Marcel Gerard," Josephine Larue says in that flat, cold way of hers, with eyes that pierce into your soul. That woman scares the shit out of him. She's like an older, female Elijah. "Do you realize you're harboring a renegade witch?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She cocks her head to the side, looking behind Marcel. "Is that a fact?"

He curses under his breath when he sees Rebekah marching out of the building. "I thought I told you to stay put."

"Well, I hate being told what to do, so I ignored you," she says, brushing him off to address Josephine. "Beg your pardon, love, but I think this is all a simple misunderstanding."

"Not at all. This is retaliation for the evil you unleashed last night. Two of our children attacked unmercifully, one dead, the other missing. All signs lead to you, Eva."

"Wait, hold on," Marcel says, stepping in front of Rebekah again. "The witch you knew as Eva Sinclair is gone, all right? Her body was taken over by Rebekah Mikaelson."

"Is that your version of an alibi?" She turns to her guys and says, "Take her."

At that moment, Elijah and Caroline whoosh out of nowhere and get between the witches and Rebekah, both of them ready to put up a fight.

"That won't be necessary," Elijah says.

"Are you all right?" Caroline asks Rebekah.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replies, none too convincingly in Marcel's opinion. He can see the worry etched onto her face, even as she attempts to put up a strong front. She hasn't told her family about the _episodes_ yet, and that's what gets both her and Marcel most concerned.

Rebekah has been losing track of time, waking up in strange places with no clue of how she got there, entire chunks of her day that she simply cannot recall. He doesn't want to say the witches might have a point, but... It seems like they're not entirely without reason.

"Miss Larue, it would be a great shame to soil the goodwill of our recent agreement. I am sorry for your loss, but Marcel is telling the truth. Rebekah now occupies the body of Eva Sinclair, and my sister is innocent of this crime. You have my word I will find whoever is responsible and make certain that justice is served. Now, I would encourage you all to leave," Elijah says, the steely sharpness of his tone making clear this is a threat.

Josephine considers him for a moment. He must’ve really caused a good impression on that visit he paid her, because the old stubborn bat then says, "You have until tomorrow. After that, it won't matter what I say. Witches will stop at nothing to protect their children." She turns to Caroline then, narrowing those icy blue eyes of hers just a tad. "It's an impulse I know you can respect."

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"Ah, there you are, finally," Klaus says as Elijah arrives for their brunch. He was starting to think he'd be slighted by his brother. That would be awfully rude, considering he's arranged for a formidable family reunion, beignets and everything.

"I was delayed," Elijah says, removing his coat. Klaus opens his mouth to query about the nature of this delay when Caroline walks in right after.

His expression immediately hardens. "You are early."

"Actually, I'm right on time," she retorts simply. "Where's your guest of honor?"

"She'll be here momentarily. And I would hope that you'd be long gone by the time she arrives. I sent all your poorly groomed friends to spend the day with their werewolf brethren while I deal with family business as I see fit."

Caroline folds her arms across her chest, cocking her head to the side. "So it must've been a mistake that my invitation to this _family_ brunch got lost in the mail. Or are you implying that I'm not part of the family?"

"I would rather you didn't come in close contact with my lost sister, whose intentions are still as mysterious to us as she is herself."

"Well, you and Elijah are here. What's the risk? She tries anything, you'll jump to my aid, right?" She punctuates her sentence with a saccharine grin.

Klaus slits his eyes at her. "You take pleasure in defying me, don't you, sweetheart?"

"Only when you're being a bossy jackass, _cupcake_."

"I hate to interrupt your lover's quarrel," Elijah cuts in. "But we seem to have a situation, Niklaus. Caroline and I have just returned from Marcellus' place, where a mob of angry Treme witches were demanding our sister's head on a pike."

"I thought this matter had been sorted."

"As did I. But it appears Eva Sinclair is not interested in letting our sister take over her body without a fight. She's waking up. Rebekah's having these... episodes. She loses track of time, wakes up in strange places with no idea how she ended up there, has these weird dreams that appear too real to be mere fantasy." Klaus huffs out in annoyance, shaking his head. Is there not a flimsy minute of peace? Not a single part of their lives that isn't actively trying to get them all murdered? Just as they get rid of one problem, three others rise from the depths of hell. "That means," Elijah continues. "We may need Freya's assistance in handling the situation, so whatever you're planning here, don't."

He shrugs innocently. "All I'm planning is a simple chat with a long lost relative. You yourself said to hear her out."

"Yes. And you yourself said that would be idiocy."

"Did I?" Klaus parrots, smirking. "Well, that does sound like me. Regardless on the off chance, if Freya has some information that could protect my daughter -"

" _Our_ daughter," Caroline corrects grumpily.

He merely grins at her. "I prefer she shares it on my terms. Ah! I think I hear her now." Klaus whirls around on his heels, clapping his hands together once just as Freya enters the dining room. "Sister!" he greets her, a huge smile plastered on his face. "Well, come in, come in! Make yourself comfortable."

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Caroline exchanges a look with Elijah, who is, apparently, just as weirded out over Klaus' enthusiastic behavior as she is. He is so arrogant he doesn't even bother being subtle; it's like he wants _everyone_ to know he's got something wicked planned, just to keep them on their toes.

Caroline refrains from grabbing his shoulders and giving him a jerk just to see if he'll fall into his senses. There's a reason why Klaus didn't want her to be here and that's because she's way too sensible to endure a Mikaelson family reunion. He knows she's not going to condone his _methods_ , whatever they are. And that... Well, it kinda makes her wish she hadn't come, to be honest; sometimes, especially where this family is concerned, ignorance is bliss. But if Freya is making claims that concern her daughter, then she wants to hear what she has to say.

As they all move to take their seats, Freya picks the spot exactly across from Caroline, smiling when she catches her eyes. "You must be Caroline," she says pleasantly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

"I uh..." Caroline looks at Klaus and then at Elijah, both of them staring fixedly at Freya. "No offense, but... I didn't even know you existed until... Well, until your brother tried to kill my daughter and Elijah blew up their house to keep him from doing it. The house Finn found with _your_ help."

The smile slides off Freya's face as she casts her gaze down. Caroline didn't mean to be this hostile towards her right off the bat, but... It was just stronger. She helped a lunatic find an innocent baby; if they're going to be _nice_ to each other, then this needs to be addressed.

"Yes..." Freya says, a little forlorn. "I'd like to offer my most sincere apologies. I never meant any harm to your daughter."

"Yes, sister, you've already said that," Elijah speaks with a hint of impatience. "Forgive me, but I believe we have more pressing issues."

Klaus sniggers. "Please, excuse my brother's lack of decorum. He's been in a foul mood of late." Caroline holds back on the urge to roll her eyes. Like _Elijah_ is the one who's been moody these days. "However, he is right. I did ask you here in the hopes that you would share some of Dahlia's secrets. So. Without further ado, let's get to it."

Klaus motions for them all to sit down. He takes the spot at the head of the table, Elijah sits to his right, with Caroline beside him and Freya moves closer to Klaus, taking the place to his left.

For once, Caroline wishes Klaus had given in to his alcoholic ways and offered something stronger than coffee to go with brunch, but since that's all there is, she pours herself a cup. It's hot, but she doesn't mind, just lets it burn down her throat, washing away some of the anxiety clogged there.

She's not entirely sure why, but the idea of discussing this aunt _Dahlia_ is getting on her nerves with a passion. So far, they'd treated the matter almost as fantasy, some half-assed story Esther had come up with to justify what she tried to do to Eve. But now that Freya is here, the whole thing has suddenly gotten way more real. Life has been throwing some wicked curve balls their way for the past seven months and she has a weird feeling that they haven't even seen the worst of it yet.

"The first thing you should know is that Dahlia's the most powerful witch I have ever known," Freya starts, her eyes traveling across the table to all of them. "And she craves more power still. Right now, she is like me, limited to one year of life in a century, but she wants to be free of that restriction, to gain true immortality, and that is why she will come here, drawn by your daughter. To take the child's power for herself." She fixes her gaze on Klaus, and then turns to Caroline. "And she will kill anyone who would defy her."

"And yet you would defy her," Elijah points out.

"I don't have a choice. She will never let me be free. My one chance is to align with you and kill her."

"Well, now that we're suitably motivated, let's talk specifics," Klaus says, motioning for her to go on.

"For you to understand, I need to start from the beginning. After she took me from mother, Dahlia used me to forge a new brand of connective magic, one that augmented my power as it allowed her to draw from me. Once we were bonded, she became unstoppable. She wasted no time proving her might. The chief of a nearby village threatened to run us off, accusing her of witchcraft, and she decided to make an example out of the entire encampment. Men, women... Children. She killed them all with a wave of her hand." Freya smiles sadly, her eyes distant as she recounts the incident. If she's faking it, Caroline thinks, she's a damn good actress. "That was my first inkling of the power that Dahlia had. Over the course of a thousand years, she's only grown stronger, and she will bring all her power to bear against you when she comes for your child."

Caroline huffs out in irritation. "I don't know about you all, but I'm kinda sick of these old bitches coming for my daughter.”

Klaus grins softly at her. It's brief and perhaps even a little inappropriate given the circumstances, but it's also the first completely non-aggressive exchange they've had in days. It's distracting, and for a second, she almost forgets she's supposed to be annoyed and preoccupied while she gets lost in the way Klaus looks at her and the single dimple in his cheek - but then Elijah's phone rings and snaps her out of it.

"Excuse me," he says as he stands up to take the call. Like walking to the other side of the room is going to make a difference with the vampires dotted with super hearing around the table, but Elijah's polite like that. "Rebekah, how are you feeling?"

"As if I walked straight into a brick wall," they hear her grumble from the other end. "I just came to see Davina, she's looking through Kol's old witchy stuff, seeing if she can find anything to help. Any luck with Freya?"

Elijah looks back at his sister. "Luck is not a word that I would use. You should be here."

"Fine, I'm on my way."

He gets back to the table with extra lines scribbled across his forehead, looking seriously at Klaus, whose expression has gone dark all of a sudden. At least when it comes to Rebekah the two of them seem to be on the same page.

They're all over each other's throats mercilessly, but when it comes to protecting each other, they're just vicious.

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Elijah pours himself a cup of coffee, hoping that the bitterness of it might distract his mind from Rebekah's unfortunate situation. He knows how important it is to understand as much as possible about Dahlia's frame of mind, her weaknesses and strengths, but he desperately wants to address his sister's particular drama, which is more urgent at the present moment, considering they have a clock on it. Elijah believes he can persuade Josephine to extend their deadline if absolutely needed, but he doesn't wish to stretch the boundaries of their friendship so soon. They might need some favors from the witches, and it would be good to have some credit to spend. For now, however, he lets Niklaus conduct the conversation. They'll talk about Rebekah once she gets here.

"Your stories are fascinating, and Dahlia does indeed sound dreadful," Niklaus says. "But Elijah and I have killed our fair share of evil witches. Even Caroline has done her part."

"None like her," Freya replies coldly.

"What are her weaknesses?" Elijah asks, sipping from his coffee.

"She's paranoid, obsessed with power. She hungers constantly for what's been denied her, be it love or revenge."

Caroline hums thoughtfully, touching her chin. "That sounds strangely familiar... Where have I seen someone like that before?" she queries, her eyes cutting to his brother.

"Yes, Caroline. I'm quite familiar with the type as well," he concours.

Niklaus smiles lazily, arching his eyebrows at the two of them like he doesn't mind being teased at all. Elijah expected to find him in one of his hell-rising tempers, from what Caroline has shared. Instead, he's been perfectly mild-mannered, if a bit excessive. The inner wirings of his brother's mind truly are a mystery.

Freya draws the air in as though bracing herself for what she's about to say. "When I was a child, Dahlia would tell me tales of her own youth, of being victimized by those stronger than her. She vowed never to be weak again. She bargained for the first born of Esther's bloodline, intending to raise us in her own image, forming a coven of her own, from which she could draw endless power. That plan was foiled the day she learned that Esther had ended her bloodline by turning you all into vampires. And so the burden fell to me. Dahlia demanded I bear the first born that would add to her power, but I would not allow a child of mine to live as I did. As a slave." Freya's last words come out thick with emotion, from behind grit teeth, her voice more than a little quivery as her eyes become bright with the threat of tears.

"So I vowed never to love, never to have a child of my own. Of course, the more I resisted, the more Dahlia fought to control me," she continues, her hands clenching on top of the table. "Until the day she took the last of the little freedom I had left. I begged her not to curse me with eternal sleep, but she wouldn't let me. She forced me into the spell. And so we slept, our magic accruing over time until we woke, filled with immense power and allowed to live a single year of life. That has been the existence I have suffered for the last ten centuries."

Elijah can feel her bitterness, simmering hatred underlying her words. She really does hate Dahlia. Whatever their thousand years together was like, he can believe that it wasn't a happy life for Freya.

Niklaus, of course, clearly differs, breaking into a fit of laughter.

"Niklaus," he admonishes sharply.

When he realizes everyone is looking at him with varying degrees of judgement, he makes an effort to rein himself in.

"Well, it's quite the ordeal, isn't it? But it does beg the question, since there was obviously one easy way out of it. Why not put an end to it yourself? A high enough bridge, a tight enough noose... You must have considered it."

Freya shuts her eyes, swallowing. He almost wants to tell her to stop. If it's this painful to watch, he can only imagine how painful it must be for her to share all this. Elijah would know; he has some harrowing memories of his own which he wouldn't want to discuss openly. The little he shared with Camille was agonizing enough. And yet, he understands the need for them to know. Elijah can accept Freya's identity and believe that she's one of them, but that doesn't make her any less of a stranger. They live through dangerous times, which makes trust a rare commodity, one they must offer cautiously. They need to know where she is coming from, what her motivations are - and, more importantly, that she is truthful, even if they might still have some reservations.

That is not to say Elijah condones his brother's flippant manners. He doesn't have to feel sorry for her or exercise this beautifully human quality called _empathy_ , which he seldom has; Niklaus just needs to keep his mouth shut and let her talk.

"Long ago, I did consider it," Freya finally speaks, opening her eyes again, now swimming with tears she could not hold back. "But Dahlia would never give me even that freedom. I would later learn the spell made me like her, immortal and impervious to harm." Freya wipes her tears with her fingers, smiling crudely at both him and Niklaus.

Elijah knows almost nothing of her or what she endured for the past millennium, but he can swear he sees in her green eyes the same sorrow that plagues his soul.

"So, you see, I am like you,” Freya says. “A creature of great power... Cursed for all time."

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"It was this evil wench, Eva! The nasty little cow is inside me, trying to bust her way out! Don't tell me to calm down, Elijah!" Rebekah bellows as she paces angrily around the study room, pointing a finger at him as he opens his mouth to speak. She's still shaking.

She stormed into the compound an hour later than she was supposed to with an ashen complexion and fear in her eyes, gesticulating frantically. This time, she remembered when the _episode_ happened, could feel the exact moment Eva took control of her. It was like she was awake the whole time, but locked up somewhere dark and distant, completely powerless. When she was brought back to the forefront, she was far away from the French Quarter, in the middle of a deserted warehouse area, and rightfully terrified.

Elijah, Caroline and Niklaus excused themselves to go sort the immediate problem with Rebekah, although it doesn't seem like there's much the three of them can do for her. But someone else might be able to help.

"I wasn't going to," he says easily. "Freya is waiting downstairs. Perhaps we could -"

"Have you lost your mind?" Niklaus cuts him off sharply. "Tell me we're not considering opening our sister's head to someone we barely know."

"Nik, for God's sake, she _is_ our sister!" Rebekah protests. "I've known it since she saved me from the Fauline cottage."

"An act no doubt meant to secure your trust, perhaps for this very moment, to strike when we are vulnerable. No. We've no way to prove anything she said today is true."

"Niklaus, I understand your concern," Elijah says slowly, in as conciliatory a tone as he can manage, like he’s explaining quantum physics to a child. "But both of us are powerless to help our sister. Either we leave Rebekah to suffer through this ordeal we have no idea how it will end, or we place our faith in the hands of someone I believe to be our blood. Right now, I'm inclined to give the benefit of the doubt to family."

His brother's eyes flash darkly at him, but Elijah decides not to wait for his further objections. Rebekah nods her head at him, while Caroline remains quiet, merely observing them, perhaps sensing that this is a conversation she should not meddle in. At this point, she should know she's just as much a part of this family as the rest of them - and more so than some, like Freya - but he doesn't wish to prolong the discussion any further. If Rebekah is willing to trust her with this, then they should at the very least hear what she has to say. Not like they're overflowing with ideas. Their 24 hours are ticking by.

"I'll be right back," he says, feeling Niklaus' eyes burning on him as he turns around to go fetch their sister.

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As soon as Elijah steps out, Klaus turns the full potency of his glare on to Rebekah. "You agree with this madness?" he said, his question winding up like an accusation.

Rebekah sits down on the couch with a weary sigh. "I don't see another choice, Nik."

"You've all lost your minds," he hisses as he moves over to the bar, finding refuge against his siblings' rebellion in a glass of bourbon.

He knocks the first glass back at once, then immediately pours another one. This is hardly the focus of anyone's concern at the moment, but Caroline can’t help the tendrils of worry creeping inside of her at Klaus' erratic behavior. He was welcoming almost to the point of euphoria earlier, and now he's flipping out about having Freya even so much as consulting on Rebekah's case, like he doesn't want her anywhere near their family in a more intimate capacity. He called her _sister_ when she arrived, but Caroline sees now that was all for show. He wanted her to open up about Dahlia, but even that has not been enough to convince him of her intentions.

Every day, Klaus gets a little bit worse, and with everything else that's happening, there's hardly any time to address it. She thought it was all about Elijah, but she sees now that his anger over his brother's decision to move out was already a symptom of a deeper issue. Paranoia is taking over. He's always been overly suspicious to the point of irrationality at times, but she doesn't think she's ever seen him flipping out like this. It's a constant and steady flow towards madness and she's watching it unfold right before her eyes, with no idea how to stop it. Calling him out on it hasn't worked. Being mad at him hasn't worked. Neither did being understanding and reassuring. Klaus is tiptoeing on the edge of the precipice and Caroline has no idea how to pull him back to safety. The thought of what might happen when he falls scares the shit out of her.

"Rebekah!" Freya says with a pleased smile as she walks into the study, followed by Elijah. Rebekah stands up and the two of them share a warm embrace. "It's good to see you again."

"And you, though I'd prefer better circumstances," Rebekah mumbles moodily as she pulls Freya to sit with her.

"You needn't worry. Elijah explained the problem and I can help you," Freya says, to which Klaus scoffs from the bar, pointedly looking at his glass.

"Rather confident, aren't we?" he derides.

"The spirit in Rebekah's body," Caroline starts, taking a step forward to finally add her two cents. It's not up to her to decide how much they're allowed to trust Freya. It's their long-lost sister, not hers. But since they're apparently doing this, maybe she can help by offering some former-witch insight. "It's powerful, and it's fighting back. From what I understand, the body jump spell should've been enough to suppress the other essence, but it's like it's cracking through Rebekah's conscience. So far, because Rebekah's powerful as well, she's been able to regain control, but what I'm afraid here is that this witch might find a way to eliminate Rebekah once she's back piloting the body. The episodes are getting more frequent, which means she's growing more powerful."

"You're correct. The more frequent the episodes become, the more in control the witch will be. She's getting the hold of it. It's her body, after all. She knows exactly how to tap into her power, whereas you don't," Freya says to Rebekah.

"Yeah, she's also, apparently, evil," Caroline adds. "Has been doing all sorts of nasty things. Is there a way to put Eva away and guarantee that she'll stay dormant?"

"I can cast a spell, put Rebekah in a deep sleep, and then suppress this other essence for good. It'll be just fine," Freya assures calmly, like a spell of this magnitude is child’s play for her. Just how strong exactly _is_ Freya?

"Lovely," Rebekah says. "When do we start?"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," Klaus finally snaps. "She spouts off some magical diagnosis and we are all supposed to applaud."

"Nik, she's trying to help."

"Yes, but for the sake of keeping our options open, why not write down your spell and incantations? That way, we can have them double-checked by an impartial third party."

Caroline's brows slash together. "What the hell am I? I can double-check what she's doing."

"No offense, love, but you're not a witch anymore, are you?" Caroline gapes furiously at him, but Klaus simply ignores her piercing glare. "Why don't we go to Davina instead? She'd love to prove me wrong."

"I doubt she, or any of you, for that matter, would understand my magic, let alone have enough power to execute it," Freya says. "It's unlike anything any modern witch has seen."

"Oh, so you're our only hope? Seems rather convenient, doesn't it?"

Only Klaus can make a person go from being genuinely concerned about him to wanting to punch him in the face. And judging by the looks she sees around her, everyone feels pretty much the same way. But it's Freya who makes a move, standing to her feet to address her brother with a gentle demeanor that he certainly does not deserve.

"I knew it would be difficult to win your trust, Niklaus. Your reputation precedes you." He smiles smugly, like being universally known as a jackass is something to be proud of. "But if we are to face Dahlia together, you will have to trust me. Given the peril that Rebekah now faces, are you truly incapable of giving me even a chance to prove myself?"

Klaus snorts with disdain, turning his back on all of them as he returns to his drink like he's suddenly lost interest in the conversation.

Grinning awkwardly, Freya turns back to the more sensible human beings in the room. "I know I appear as an outsider, but I have dreamt of you all, my family, for a thousand years. Elijah..." Freya's face lights up as she fixes her eyes on her brother. "When you were in Esther's womb, she would ask me to sing to you. I would feel her belly as I did... How you would kick. She would say it was as if Thor himself had raised his hammer -"

"And summoned thunder and lightning," Elijah completes, a soft smile gracing his features. For once, this seems to be a memory from his human past that he keeps with fondness. "Mother rarely mentioned you. When she did, she would say how enchanted you were by the prospect of my birth."

"How I wanted more brothers... And a sister, more than anything! But between Esther and Dahlia, that wish was taken from me." Freya's smile turns bitter, her eyes darkening. "I was ruined by those who raised me. If nothing else, at least we have that in common. There is nothing that can replace what was taken from us, but I hope we can make something better in its place. All you have to do is trust me."

Elijah and Rebekah both smile affably at their sister, clearly willing to offer her the benefit of the doubt, but before they can say anything, Klaus flashes over to Freya and, with one swift, brutal move, snaps her neck.

"Well, that's enough of that, don't you think?" He drops her body to the ground, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Right. Now we can have a proper family meeting."

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The room explodes in a cacophony of heated curses and - in his opinion, highly exaggerated - chiding.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Caroline snarls, her eyes spitting fire.

"I was doing us all a favor," he replies with a dismissive shrug. "I couldn't sit through another minute of her saccharine tales."

"That was absolutely unnecessary!" Rebekah rebukes, crouching down next to Freya's - for now, at least - dead body.

"Oh, please. She was insufferable."

"That was ridiculous, even for you." Elijah's tone is even, but Klaus can sense all of the heat of his reproach.

"You've only just met her!" he argues with indignation. "Let's not get sentimental. Besides, if she was telling the truth about being immortal, she'll awaken shortly. If she was lying, good riddance."

"Yes. Of course, if she wakes, she'll be willing to help us with unbridled enthusiasm," Elijah counters.

Caroline steps up to him, anger etched onto every line of her pretty face. He cannot believe that even she fell for Freya's poor-kidnapped-girl charm. Rebekah and Elijah have soft hearts when it comes to family, but Caroline owes Freya absolutely nothing. She should know better.

"Can you not see that you are acting like a crazy person?" she seethes.

"She played you all for fools. Can _you_ not see that? She spins a sad yarn about a small child taken by an evil witch and you fall over yourselves to mend what's broken."

"How can you be so certain that she was lying?" Rebekah asks.

"Simple," he says, pursing his lips. "It's exactly what I would do."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Oh perfect," she huffs out. "A psychopath recognizing another?"

Klaus ignores her taunt in favor of keeping his focus on what's at stake here. "My only question, which she failed to answer, is what's in it for her?"

Elijah kneels down, touching a finger to her neck, feeling for a pulse. "Whatever the truth may be, she's in no position to help us now."

"We should try Marcel," Rebekah says sourly, shooting a dark look his way. "Surely he's put in a better effort."

She storms out of the room and Elijah makes to follow behind, but Klaus stops him.

"You know I'm right, Elijah. We can't have an alliance with someone we can't trust. I've learned my lesson, why haven't you?"

His brother levels him with a harsh look, not a single hint of sympathy in his eyes. "You don't trust her, that's your choice. I only hope that choice comes from a place of reason, not fear."

He chases after Rebekah, leaving him and Caroline with Freya’s dead form. They face off for a moment and he waits for her to snap or walk out as well in protest, but she only glowers - furiously so.

"Well, go on, then," he concedes, not taking the loaded silence any longer. "Tell me what a monster I am, why don't you?"

Caroline is quiet for a heartbeat longer, and when she speaks, the ice in her tone cuts deep into his chest. "I love you, Klaus. But right now, I don't like you at all."

With that, she walks out as well, but through a different door, no doubt going to check on their daughter. Klaus shuts his eyes, her words sinking hard inside of him. He and Caroline are always working around a new set of differences, but lately it seems as though they've simply lost their pace and can't see eye to eye on absolutely anything. A lot of it, he knows, it's his own fault, with his frayed temper and moody outbursts. He refuses to take the blame for everything, though, especially when he’s _right_.

Instead of feeling guilty, however, he just gets all the angrier with Freya. As always, his family is getting in the way of his conjugal bliss, pushing him towards a murderous disposition when he should be enjoying a peaceful time with Caroline and their child. And while she charms her way into their foolish hearts, his cautious attitude is met with revile and anger, isolating him from his family. That they would rather side with her than heed his warnings is not only absurd, but infuriating.

Well. He and Freya are going to have a little word about that.

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"Ah, you're awake," Klaus says with fake cheer as Freya finally comes to. He was starting to think she wouldn't. "Clearly, your restorative powers are not renowned for their speed."

She rolls over in a haste, pulling herself off the ground with sparks in her eyes. "You would dare lay your hands on me," she hisses.

"Immortality is a bold claim. I had to make sure you were telling the truth."

Freya's jaw clenches as she takes in her surroundings, realizing that they're no longer at the compound. It was a bit of a nuisance to carry her all the way over to the bell tower at St. Louis' cathedral - had to fend off some bold onlookers with an eye roll and a good-natured _"Tourists, who can stand them, right?"_ It didn't seem practical to conduct his interrogation at home, with the social justice warriors of his family just a few rooms away. Depending on what Freya might have to say, well… Things could turn ugly fast.

"Why did you bring me here?" she queries.

"I couldn't very well let you stay at my home. That honor is something I reserve for those I consider family.”

Her lips twist angrily. "So you refuse me as your sister."

Klaus' smirk turns cruel. "Well, you had a lovely audition, it just didn't seem to be the right fit."

"I think Elijah felt otherwise," she counters with her chin up. "Rebekah, too. Even Caroline."

"Yes, you did a fine job of convincing them with all your melodramatic tales, however I suspect you were not entirely forthcoming. The truth is Elijah and Rebekah can be a bit naive when it comes to family relations, and Caroline is too kind-hearted for her own good, always willing to believe the best in people. Case in point, their unending faith in me." He smiles widely, motioning his hands towards himself. "You see, we've had our fair share of putting our trust in the wrong hands over the last year, and it brought us nothing but pain. So I shall repay their loyalty by guarding them against treachery they cannot see, and I sense you are treacherous indeed. You wish to worm your way into my family, I want to know why. So, _sister_ , I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me the full truth. I suggest you don't muck it up." He punctuates his sentence with a predatory grin, full of teeth.

"Very well," Freya starts quietly, though he can see the storm in her eyes. There's something not quite _stable_ about her. She tries to put on this front of cunningness and power, but she seems to be constantly on edge, lost amidst the turmoil of her own feelings. The familiarity of it speaks to him, and Klaus has to resist the temptation to _connect_ with her over their shared brokenness. Whatever her truth might be, Klaus can at least believe that dear aunt Dahlia has mauled her sanity. He just doesn't particularly care.

"You want to know why I hate Dahlia? It goes back to a man. His name was Mathias. We knew each other for one perfect year in the early 1400s. I loved him more than my own life, and Dahlia allowed me to love him."

"Of course. She wanted you to bear her another first born."

"I broke my vow and gave in to love, and that led to the darkest moment of my life... The day when I tried to steal from Dahlia that which she wanted most."

Klaus narrows his eyes with interest. "And what precisely was that?"

Freya's face darkens, filled with deep-rooted anguish. "My son," she says, the word mangled. "When she learned I was with child, Dahlia cursed Mathias to death. I knew I'd never be free of her, that my child would be born a slave. To spare us both from the horrors of the life I'd known, I took a bottle of Dahlia's strongest poison. I'd always thought about taking my own life, but never as strongly as in that moment. I knew then that only death would give me the release I longed for. But Dahlia knew that it was not an option for me. That was the day I learned I could never die." Freya swallows, averting his gaze as tears stream down her cheeks. "But the spell that protected me did not protect my child. I came back to life, but he remained dead. When I woke up... It was as though I'd never been pregnant."

Klaus's face tightens, his heart constricting painfully as he is taken back to that one terrible night seven months ago that still haunts him. He cannot imagine what Caroline would've been like if she'd woken up as a vampire to find that their daughter was gone. Her first few weeks after completing transition were nightmarish enough as it was. The hatred and the regret he harbors over it threatens to consume him to this day; if Caroline or Eve hadn't made it... Klaus doesn't think New Orleans would still be standing.

"It was Dahlia who made me do what I did," Freya continues after a brief pause to recompose herself. "She turned me into a monster, and for the last 600 years I've wanted nothing more than to destroy her for it. And now I've learned that another of our family has had a child... And I cannot let her have your daughter. I cannot let her have what she wants. Tell me, brother. Is that the truth you wanted to hear?"

The heated rancor behind her words finds echo inside of him. He lives with this same feeling every single day. A blind hunger for revenge that overcomes everything else. The problem is... Klaus knows very well that he would stop at nothing to protect his family and punish those who would harm them. How far would Freya go?

"Whether I believe you or not is no matter," he says, a steely edge to his voice. "You told that tale in order to garner my sympathy, thinking the shared plight of a child in danger would bond us, but I will not be manipulated."

"Whatever you choose, one final truth remains. Dahlia is coming for us. With me, you have a chance to defeat her. Without me, she will take your daughter and make her a slave. She will suffer as I did, never knowing her mother and father because Dahlia will have rendered you into ash."

"Are you quite finished?" Klaus snaps, eyes flashing dangerously. "If there is to be an alliance between us, it will be one of my design. And if you _ever_ try to control me again, sister... You'll spend the rest of your immortal life regretting it."

"Then leave. I already have Rebekah and Elijah's trust, and even the mother of your daughter is on my side. I'm not going anywhere. But if I were you, brother, I'd rethink your alliances as you go forward."

Klaus takes a step forward, his monster stirring inside of him. "I do not appreciate mind games... _sister_. But I _especially_ do not deal well with being threatened. You might want to do some research. I'm known to have a temper. I recommend you do not test it."

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Klaus left with Freya - unconscious, thrown over his shoulder like a potato sack - but when he comes back, he's alone. And in one of those apocalyptic moods as well. Caroline can see the dark clouds from afar.

He cuts a beeline to the bar cart and pours himself a whiskey. That's never a good sign. From the second floor, Caroline braces herself for confrontation. Ideally, it wouldn't have to be a confrontation; just a regular conversation between two adults to try and sort through their communication issues. But Klaus doesn't do _regular conversations_ or _adulting_ , so. It's best to prepare for the worse.

"We need to talk," she announces.

The muscles on Klaus' back go all taut before he unwinds with a heavy exhale. "Do we, indeed?" he grumbles crossly. "Have you come to express your gratitude for the courtesy I've shown Jackson and the werewolves? Or perhaps you want to thank me for my efforts to protect you and our daughter from those who would harm you?"

Caroline halts midstep as she comes down the stairs, shooting a look at him. Does he really think he's been _courteous_ towards the werewolves?

"We'll talk about the wolves in a second," she says, resuming her descent and stopping right behind him, waiting until he's facing her to continue. "First... I appreciate how careful you're being about Eve, Klaus. And I understand where you're coming from, I really do. But in case you've forgotten, I was there, too. I was the one giving birth while they slashed my throat open."

"You were there, but you were not forced to watch it in complete and utter hopelessness, unable to do anything to prevent it, knowing all the while that the woman you love was dead and your child would soon be gone, while you'd still be alive once it was all over, cursed for all eternity to bear the weight of your own dreadful failure," he retorts with heat, his eyes sparking with vicious intent.

"Are you seriously trying to say that you had it _worse_?"

"No, Caroline. Of course not. What I'm trying to say, and which seems to inexplicably escape you, is that I won't _ever_ let that happen again. I do not care what I have to do to prevent it. You of all people should be on my side. I trusted my own abilities to overcome any attempted treacheries too much in the past, thinking this family untouchable only to be proved wrong in the worst possible manner, and I will not be taking any risks this time. I have learned my lesson and I cannot fathom how you haven't."

"You have no idea what it took me to get here," she starts slowly, feeling a wave of heat thrumming in her veins. "For months, I didn't know if I would survive another day, and I would've definitely not made it if I had chosen to live like you are now. We can't spend the rest of our lives refusing to trust everyone. That is no life, Klaus, and I don't want my daughter to grow up in a paranoid world built by her father where she can't even trust her own shadow."

"So you'd rather she gets mauled by a witch whose intentions we believe to be moderately clear? Or perhaps a werewolf who grew up as Jackson's best friend, only to betray his entire pack in a personal quest for power? Or maybe some illustrious nobody who seems to want nothing but our sympathy and turns out to be a monster in sheep's skin?"

"Do you even hear yourself?! Your reason, your objective thinking - it's all getting clouded by fear. You're gonna let this drive you _insane_."

"You're spending too much time with the werewolves, love," he sneers. "It's making you soft."

"I will _die_ to protect my daughter, Klaus," she retorts darkly. "And, as a matter of fact, so will the werewolves. So will Jackson. You speak of them with disdain, like they're a burden to you. That man walked across your ballroom to bond himself to me in a complete distortion of his own beliefs and traditions just to help keep our daughter safe."

"Oh so selfless, our dearest Jackson," he says with mock-consideration. "I suppose it had nothing to do with being turned into a makeshift hybrid or gaining himself an entire army of them."

"Exactly. _His_ army. _He_ controls them. You have to put your animosity behind you and stop trying to command them. Give him the space he needs to run his pack whichever way he sees fit. He's not our errand boy. No more orders, no more favors. He is alpha, period."

Klaus looks at her with a blank expression for a second before cracking up with laughter, a sardonic sound that carries no mirth. "I'm sorry. Did you really think that I would ever agree to let Jackson control the wolves?"

"Show him some respect, Klaus!" she fires at him. "He is on our side, fighting for our daughter!"

Klaus' patronizing expression descends into a scowl, angry lines scribbled across his forehead. "I've spent all day hearing nonsense from people who claim to be fighting for our daughter. Some I believe, some I do not, but one thing is for sure: there is only one person I fully trust when it comes to our child's safety, and that would be _me_!" His voice escalates as he goes until he's nearly snarling at Caroline's face.

She is so thrown by the venom in his words that all she can do is stare at him in bafflement as he whizzes by her spitting fire. But then he stops, whirls around. "You know, you all seem to think this is a democracy. I assure you, it is not! If Dahlia is coming, then she is a threat to you and to Eve. I watched you die once. I will not stand by and let it happen again. And if Jackson or anyone strays from the course that I set, they will answer to _me_. You would do well to remind him of that."

Caroline watches with a heavy heart as Klaus barrels off into the night, breathing barely controlled twists from rage. She doesn't know whether to be mad at him, or outraged, or something else entirely. Klaus is being crazy and insulting, but she cannot pretend she didn't catch the sharp wheeze of emotion in his voice, the way air seemed to catch in his throat even in the midst of a fit of ire. It doesn't excuse anything, but it gives her pause. He’s dead set on a path of destruction, his own more than anyone else’s.

So how does she stop a train wreck?

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Elijah's new quarters are tragic from the outside. Klaus almost felt insulted when he laid eyes on the building, thinking that his brother must truly despise him if he was willing to move across the river into such derelict a residence just to get away from him. But the inside is a different story. A bit pedestrian, perhaps, too modern for his more classic tastes, a bit soulless, like something out of a fancy store catalogue. Nothing like the opulence and the rich, breathing life of the compound; but cozy nonetheless, he guesses.

It smells like new furniture and pine needles in there.

"So this is where you live. It's nicer on the inside, at least," he says conversationally, looking around as he steps in, not bothering with formalities. He stops when his eyes settle on his brother, who's lighting candles. Klaus' lips instantly curl into a wolfish smirk. "Are you expecting anyone?"

"Can I help you with something, Niklaus, or did you cross the river purely to critique my decor and meddle in my life?" he asks flatly, not bothering to look up.

Now that he's noticed the candles - Elijah also seems to be rather dressed up. It's hard to see the difference between his everyday style and what he'd wear for a more distinguished event, but Klaus has learned how to read the slight nuance of Elijah's suits over the years. This dark grey ensemble isn't what he'd be wearing for a quiet night in.

"Ah, so there _is_ someone," he drawls with interest. "Is that why you moved out, then? To have some privacy away from your nosy siblings? Afraid we'll scare her away? Assuming it's a she, of course. You know we don't discriminate." He takes up a random vase, inspecting the piece before putting it back down. "Can't fault you for trying to hide them from us, though. Although it's not entirely fair, seeing as you are deeply familiarized with all the joys and woes of my personal entanglement. If I may offer a word of wisdom, brother. Relationships are highly overrated," he grumbles.

"Allow me to offer a counter-advice," Elijah says, turning to him. "Relationships are far easier to weather if you'll only listen to your partner and refrain from annoying them every chance you get. Not acting like a deranged lunatic also helps, I'm told."

Klaus rolls his eyes at him. He didn't come here to get a lecture on how to handle his romantic affairs from Elijah, of all people. So he shifts the conversation back to less prickly shores. To him, at least.

"I thought you might like to know I was moved by what you said about my decision to trust our long-lost sister," he speaks as he prowls to the window, evaluating the view. Not as good as Marcel's, but not bad either. "So I waited until she revived and when she did, we had quite a chat."

"And your position remains unchanged?"

"I looked in her eyes and I saw only anger and fear, the will to do whatever it takes to survive, no matter who she has to hurt. I could use that to my own ends, of course, but I could never allow so damaged a creature to have a say in my plans. She is a danger to Eve."

Elijah considers him carefully. "You may not trust her, but trust me, brother. We may have had our differences of late, but I agree with you that we should exercise caution. It's just your manners that are severely lacking. Treat her fairly, let her show us what she's truly capable of, and then we'll decide whether or not to welcome her back into our family."

Something about this still doesn't sit right with Klaus, but Elijah is not being _entirely_ unreasonable. They need to cultivate a certain camaraderie with Freya, if nothing else then for the sake of defeating Dahlia. Assuming, of course, that she's being honest about her true desires to rid herself of the one who raised her for a thousand years. Klaus knows only too well that not everyone has it in them to murder a parental figure in cold blood, no matter how cruel that parent might have been. Dahlia is the closest thing Freya has known to a mother.

"If you're so certain," he concedes grudgingly. "I'll let you pursue it. But should Freya betray us -"

"If Freya should ever attempt to betray us, I will bury her beneath a thousand wretched torments myself."

Klaus grins wanly at his brother. "I don't doubt it. But what if you're too late? What if Freya is duplicitous? What if she intends to use my daughter to bargain for her freedom? You won't have to worry that I will never forgive you, Elijah, because you will never forgive yourself. You will suffer a guilt that will be impossible to endure. I should know. I am reminded of my own failures every single day, more strongly still when I see Eve and her mother together. Because of me, they almost never had the chance to meet. Caroline was put through the most violent torture that could ever be inflicted upon a mother and robbed of the first six months of our daughter's life. I saw it, Elijah, and I see it still, how terrified she is." He pauses, standing face to face with Elijah, staring him dead in the eye. "I will spare no one to protect them, least of all a sister whose existence we ignored until now. Of this you can be certain."

Elijah's expression clouds over. "Nothing will happen to that child or to her mother, but we have to consider every weapon at our disposal. Dahlia is coming. The only question is when," he says, a steely edge to his tone that brings Klaus a measure of reassurance, however flitting.

Klaus doesn't trust many people in this world, but his big brother is one of the privileged few. For now, anyway. However hurt he might still feel over his decision to move out of their home, he feels better - safer, more empowered - knowing he can count on his support.

He'll certainly need it for what's to come.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo... thoughts?! Not gonna lie, I'm very much looking forward to your opinions. Anticipate angst, my dudes! 
> 
> Klaus is going into the cray-cray zone, but that's not to say he doesn't care, quite the opposite... The more he cares, the worst he gets. Hopefully, this chapter was able to communicate some of his motivations more clearly. Klaus' authoritarian ways make him sound like he's being unreasonable, but my opinion is that this situation has many valid points of view, his included. Also, poor boi doesn't really know how to do the whole relationship thing. lol It's not as easy as manipulating his siblings. He'll learn it soon enough. :)
> 
> ANYWAY! 😂 Thank you for reading! 💖 Remember to leave kudos if you haven't already and let's talk if you feel like it! =) Cheers!


	17. S02E17 Exquisite Corpse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is **NSFW** , folks. This is not a drill. 
> 
> Writing smut is definitely out of my comfort zone. This might be the first full smut scene I post here on AO3 as a part of a chapter. I had a brief experience with an outtake a while back on tumblr that did not go very well. lol Needless to say, I am ANXIOUS. So, please, be kind!
> 
> Thank you so much to all the kind people reading and reviewing this. You are the sweetest and your support is very much appreciated!

* * *

_My past has tasted bitter, for years now_   
_So I wield an iron fist_   
_Grace is just weakness, or so I've been told_   
_I've been cold, I've been merciless_   
_But the blood on my hands scares me to death_   
_Maybe I'm waking up today_

* * *

Klaus contemplates going out, contemplates a long cold shower, contemplates growing the nerve to attempt a reconciliation by knocking on Caroline's door, but ends up contemplating his own glass, nursing a lone drink in his bedroom.

Caroline hasn't spoken to him since their argument the night before. Despite Elijah's objections to how he is conducting the situation, Klaus doesn't think he's entirely in the wrong. Somebody has to keep this family sheltered against their own soft-hearted tendencies and, as usual, the dirty work falls to the big bad wolf. He’s used to being the bad guy, getting all of the angry glares and none of the appreciation. Except this time, he’s just trying to keep their family safe.

Klaus' impulsive ways means he gets awfully carried away when pulled into that kind of argument. His reason is perfect, it's just his exposition that needs a little consideration, perhaps. He’s gracious enough to concede that the way he delivers his message could use some polishing.

Now Caroline is angry and he doesn't know how to apologize without _actually_ apologizing. He's not sorry for what he said, just... Well, he's sorry she's upset, truth be told. Something tells him that is not going to be much of a compelling claim to her.

The whole world seems to be out to get him lately and Klaus is reacting as best as he can. He cannot let his guard down at such a critical time; any tiny slips could be fatal. But that comes at a cost, and a high one at that: his peace of mind, his humor and, most of all, the harmony of his domestic life. He does miss Caroline, terribly so... She's locked her door on him weeks ago and he hasn't found his way back into her good graces yet. Just as they seemed to have found the perfect point of balance, when they had - what is it that young people say? _Gone steady_.

Such an odd expression. He assumes that's what they were doing, _steadiness_ , although it was never openly discussed. Klaus wouldn't have a name for what they are, although he hardly thinks it's necessary. Once you've lived for as long as he has, things such as labels become so meaningless and empty. Just words. Some things, he's come to learn, elude even as vast a vocabulary as his.

Tyler was Caroline's _boyfriend_. He's not that, nor would he ever want to be. It's too small a title, with too prosaic a meaning. It sounds juvenile and ephemeral. Just as Caroline is not his _girlfriend_. To call her that would be to reduce her to a position, a modest place in the everlasting span of his life, which would be so terribly inaccurate. She is his whole world. It's impossible to equate what she is to him to what she was to that dimwit Tyler Lockwood.

"Get away from her!" Caroline's fierce command knifes through Klaus' idle musings, his defense instincts kicking in at once.

He puts down his glass and cuts the short distance between his room and hers in a flash. He gets there in time to see Rebekah in Eve's room with her hands out, sending Caroline flying across her bedroom, crashing against the bedside table.

"Rebekah!" he growls as he advances towards his sister. "What are you doing?!"

She turns on him then, giving him a mind-splitting stroke, his sight vanishing in a blinding explosion as he tumbles to the floor. He grunts painfully, clutching at his head, and then he senses the pain easing away slightly as Rebekah focuses her attention back on Caroline, who'd just lunged at her again. She sinks to her knees beside him, clawing at her own throat, her eyes bulging and desperate as Rebekah steals the air from her lungs.

Grinding his teeth and taking full advantage of her momentary distraction, Klaus charges at his sister, a single clawed finger slashing at her, viciously. Rebekah groans loudly and then immobilizes him once more, but it lasts but a second, just long enough for her to flee through the window.

As soon as she's gone, both him and Caroline spring up to their feet, hunching over the crib. He releases an audible breath as he sees his daughter, clutching a little wolf plushie and staring at her parents with big eyes, not a clue of the danger she was just in.

He turns to Caroline, who looks frantic and shaken, but otherwise fine. She locks eyes with him, a shadow crossing her features.

"That's not your sister anymore."

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"I don't know why I keep packing these away. There's always someone in need of a good shackling," Klaus says as he retrieves the enchanted magic-binding manacles from a wooden box.

Caroline gives him the stink eye. Those might as well be the same manacles that were used _on her_ the day she gave birth to Eve. Seeing that thing still makes her stomach tie up in nauseating knots. Klaus has the decency to look guilty when he catches her eye, averting her gaze as he puts the manacles in Marcel's hands.

"Find Rebekah, or Eva, or whoever the bloody hell that was. Use these to stop her from doing magic, and don't hurt her," he admonishes. "The non-psychopathic bits are still my sister."

"I won't be the only one looking for her," Marcel says. "She killed witch kids. The 24-hour hold Elijah got the covens to agree to ended at midnight. Every witch in the city is gonna be gunning for her."

"I suggest you start with Vincent Griffith. He knew Eva Sinclair, he might know one or two of her secret lairs." Klaus then turns to Caroline. "You should go to Elijah. Get him to charm his elderly witch into calling off the hunt."

"And leave Eve? Don't you think I should stay here?"

"Jackson has been working night and day, surrounding this place with his werewolf army, as you remind me ever so often," he says in a placating tone, which prompts Caroline to raise an eyebrow at him. So they have an attempted murder attack on their daughter and suddenly Klaus' faith in Jackson's leadership and the werewolves' protection has been renewed? "Not to mention," he adds after a beat. "I will be here. And I know the best way to guarantee our child's immediate safety is to get Rebekah out of that serial killer's body and back into the original model."

Caroline treats him to a suspicious look; she has the distinct impression that he's trying to keep her away from the compound. "And what will you be doing while we go out to do the dirty work?"

Klaus lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Attending to the even dirtier work... As usual."

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Caroline clamps her mouth shut, trying - and mostly failing - to bite back on a grin as she bounces on the soles of her feet. The awkwardness in the air is so thick you can cut through it. Her eyes travel from Elijah to Gia, who have been deliberately avoiding looking at each other, both of them as silent as the grave since they left Elijah's place.

Caroline isn't entirely sure _why_ Gia is here, but she's not complaining. She was a little testy about being sent out on this mission when she’d much rather stay back and watch Eve in case Rebekah - or Eva - decided to go back, but her levels of excitement spiked considerably when she got to Elijah's loft and found the other baby vampire already there.

The two of them looked quite the pair, with Elijah in his customary fine-cut suit and her in a killer cocktail dress. Caroline felt awfully underdressed next to them for whatever the occasion was; nobody told her there was a dress code to this Josephine Larue’s place. But what really caught her attention was the _glow_ Gia had about her. It made Caroline want to giggle like a schoolgirl. She bit back on that too, though; despite her irrational giddiness over what she has been inwardly referring to as _Elijah's girlfriend situation_ , she didn't want to make it any more uncomfortable than it already was.

But _God_ , she's just _itching_ to say something.

In the car, on the way to Miss Larue's mansion, Gia just slid into the backseat with her violin case and didn't say a word. All Caroline and Elijah spoke about was Rebekah. He asked her to recount the events of the previous night once more, in details, like he expected to have an epiphany or something. What else is there to understand? If Rebekah hasn't gotten in touch with them until now, it means she's lost the battle of wills against Eva and the witch is now in full control of her body, ergo she needs to be stopped. She's been attacking children all over town and tried to take Eve. The reason for that is what they expect to grill out of Josephine. She never got into details on _why_ Eva ended up at the Fauline cottage, only told Elijah that she was _sadistic_. Well, now's the time for full disclosure. A sadistic witch attacking children on the loose is not good news to anyone, least of all to Rebekah, who's powerless and getting weaker by the minute.

This kind of magic is not something Caroline's at all familiar with, but she knows enough to understand that Eva _can_ get rid of Rebekah for good, and it seems like she's both determined and powerful enough to do it. The clock is ticking, _fast_.

Still, as they wait for Josephine to come out and greet them, there isn't much else to do but notice how desperate Elijah and Gia are to disguise the strong last-night vibes radiating off of them. If this is what Gia was wearing, they must've had a hot date. She looks _foxy_.

How Caroline misses having hot dates... It's been weeks since she last had sex, which explains a lot about her moodiness of late. It's hard to keep cockblocking Klaus and his puppy eyes when she’s so hungry for that ridiculous mouth of his to work its magic, but she refuses to give in without a proper apology and an admission of guilt. All his mouth does lately is snarl and spit atrocity after atrocity and not even those dimples can save his grace. He can light her up like no one else, but he can also turn her off just as fast. Lately it’s been all angry glares, frosty silences and very little sex.

God, she really, _really_ needs to have sex and unwind some of that stress. Maybe if Klaus concentrated more on the positive ways to work out his frustrations than on lashing out at everyone, he wouldn't be so goddamn moody all the goddamn time.

"So," Gia speaks after an awkward-long silence with a strained smile on her face. "I'm gonna go see if I can find Josephine."

As she disappears into the house, Caroline turns to Elijah with big eyes, brows up to her hairline. He faces away, pretending to be interested in some books.

"Please, tell me she came with us because she spent the night," Caroline sing-songs.

"Josephine Larue can be rather recalcitrant. She is, however, enamored with Gia's musical prowess and candor."

"Hmmm... So aside from having that _great_ rack, she's also good at music _and_ candid? That's a lot of qualities."

Elijah shakes his head, but a tiny grin dances just on the edge of his mouth. "Caroline..."

"What? With that dress she's wearing, it's hard not to notice. But I'm not judging. I would flaunt it too if I had it. I'm just saying. She's hot. And talented. And candid." She bats her eyelids innocently at him. "I'm sure Josephine is not the only one enamored."

Elijah looks at her, mildly amused. She's pretty certain that the only reason he isn't blushing right now is because he's physically incapable of doing so. But the smile they exchange says it all. He is _happy_. For the first time in a long time, there's _something_ in his life that brings him real joy, and it's all his.

Elijah walks through life with a poker face, exercising restraint at all times, sacrificing his own needs for the sake of others - mostly Klaus', sometimes Rebekah's and, lately, also Caroline's. He gives and gives and gives and people just keep on taking. If there's anyone who deserves to enjoy himself and live a little, it's Elijah. If he's happy, Caroline's happy, and all should be right with the world.

"Mr. Mikaelson," comes that same cold voice she heard the other day. Caroline turns to see Josephine, with those electric blue eyes of hers that remind her of Damon's, if his were icy like a glacier instead of alight with malice.

"Madame Larue," Elijah says affably, giving her a kiss on each cheek.

Caroline cocks an involuntary eyebrow. Since when has he started _kissing_ people like this? He is probably the _least_ warm-greetings person she's ever met, even more so than Klaus, and Klaus literally _barks_ at people.

Gia catches her befuddlement and grins knowingly at her.

"Have you come to impress me once more with young Gia's talents?" Josephine asks as she takes a seat. An angry-looking witch with tattoos creeping up his neck, at least two heads taller than Caroline, stands a few feet away with a hard line between his eyebrows and his hands clasped together in front of his body. Magical _and_ physical intimidation. This Josephine lady is not joking around.

When her eyes set on Caroline, it sends a chill up her spine. "What, pray tell, does this one do?"

Elijah looks at her, his expression softening just a bit. "This one's family, madame. And we have come to ask a favor."

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Rebekah was such a handsome young woman.

 _Is_ , Klaus corrects himself. Her body hasn't been destroyed, and soon enough she'll be back in it. As pretty as Eva Sinclair may be, he could do without the murderous psyche. This family can only tolerate one person with occasional impulsive psychotic behavior and he’s not about to get kicked off his perch.

He is trying to think of what his life was like back when he had the portraits hanging on the ballroom wall commissioned. He can't remember if it was in the late 1800s or early 1900s. All three of them posed for days for the artist. If memory doesn’t fail him, Rebekah did a little bit more than that. It was a talented young painter who was getting a decent amount of attention in New Orleans back then, but after Klaus learned of his involvement with his sister, he had him compelled to leave and never come back. His impressive talent was the only reason he was spared of being served as main course.

Klaus' own portrait is quite flattering. He's rather picky with the artists he sponsors, it was hard to find one with such a fine eye for human complexion. The young man had a way with the nuance of light, something Klaus has always particularly struggled with. He's had many mentors over the years, including Degas himself, but never quite grasped the fine intricacies of it, especially when painting a human subject. This painter, though fresh, already had a good technique. Klaus was so jealous.

The siblings he portrayed were kings and queen among men. The whole world at their feet. Constantly inebriated by their own power, flaunting their influence through their riches and the most outrageously lavish parties. They could have anything and anyone they wanted and the truth is they wanted it all. Nothing and no one could ever sate their greed - for lust, for blood, for ambition, for all of it put together and served to them on a silver tray. Eternity had felt like a true blessing back then.

Klaus thinks he was happy. Or a kind of happy, anyway. Back then he probably used to think that that was the only one way to go; now he knows he was wrong. There's more to life than extravagant soirees and an endless parade of pretty faces and generous bosoms in and out of his quarters every other night. There's even more than putting an entire city down on its knees before you.

He sees now that the only reason he felt truly happy back then was because he had his family with him, witnessing and sharing it all, basking in the same fountain of pleasure as him. Elijah, Rebekah, Marcel and even Kol. If they hadn't been there, none of that would've mattered. Klaus doubts he would've gotten as far as he did, with how terribly impulsive he was. Even more so than now. Would've likely just fed his way through the city and moved on before New Orleans ever had the chance to sink its roots inside of him.

When he lists the things that make his heart beat now with the same fervor and purpose as it did back in the time of those portraits, he thinks of Caroline's lazy sunshine smile when she wakes up. He thinks of the constellation of freckles peppered across her shoulders when she sleeps with her naked back turned to him. He thinks of the first time he held his daughter and the instant jolt of affection unlike anything else he'd ever felt before, like there'd be nothing on this earth he wouldn't do for that little one. He thinks of Rebekah's earnest excitement with having them all crammed together into a polaroid picture, as a family. So much significance in such a simple thing.

That's the bottom line of it all, Klaus thinks: the biggest difference between who he was then and who he is now is that the 1800s Klaus only found pleasure in the exaggeration, in the extravagance, in things that were greater, louder, bigger. He was a man of excesses. Now, he's finally learned how to appreciate the small things, to see the beauty of intimacy, of secret, stolen moments that are just his and no one else's. The way Caroline looks at him when she's happy. How his daughter's eyes go wide with curiosity when she distracts herself wrapping her tiny fingers around his necklaces.

Whether that change has come for better or for worse, it varies with the day. Sometimes, Klaus wishes he'd remained as reckless and fickle as he'd always been. It was enough to have his siblings to worry about. He was fine not caring about much of anything else. _Stay away from the ones you love too much_ , he once read in a book. _Those are the ones who will kill you_.

These words have never resonated more with him than now.

He wonders what that young painter would make of him if he were to have his portrait painted today. If he'd see the same man, or if he'd be able to tell the difference.

The sound of heeled footsteps pulls Klaus out of his musings.

"Our sister was quite the beauty," Freya speaks from behind him.

"You said you could put Rebekah back in her original body," he says sharply, not bothering with amenities. "Do it."

"So you've come to your senses."

"My senses have not faltered. They still demand that you are not to be trusted. However, circumstances dictate otherwise." He turns around to face her at last. "For now."

"What 's changed?"

"Eva Sinclair has resumed control of her body, leaving Rebekah trapped and powerless. So make with your spells and enchantments and put my sister back in her true body."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple."

Klaus' teeth click together in annoyance, his patience quickly fraying. This is why he didn't want anyone at home when he met with Freya. He knew, after their last conversation, that it was possible things might take on an unpleasant turn for the violent. Last thing he needs is Caroline having even more reason to cast judgmental eyes at him.

"More stalling. Very well. I know I can't kill you, but I shall have a fine time trying," he smiles, all teeth and threat. "Tell me, have you ever been skinned alive?"

"The problem is Rebekah's condition has worsened," Freya retorts angrily, a hint of accusation in her eyes. "When I offered to help, she was in control of Eva's body. If she's lost inside Eva, I don't have a spell that can breach Eva's mind and find her."

"Ah, I was hoping you would say that. Fortunately for you, I know someone well versed in such spells."

Klaus walks over to a table on the corner of the room and, with his back turned to Freya, retrieves an identical pair of magic-binding manacles as the one he gave Marcel this morning. In a blur, he's on his sister, slapping it onto her wrists. Freya takes a step back, fruitlessly trying to free herself of the spelled objects.

"Now we're all set, let's go meet her, shall we?"

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"Eva Sinclair was a wild beauty, practicing wild magic," Josephine recounts under the intense and expectant stares of Gia, Elijah and Caroline. "She and Vincent were so happy together we let them be, despite our reservations. They'd been together since they were sixteen, married not long thereafter. He was highly esteemed in the Treme, one of the most talented young witches among us. We thought... If anyone can curb some of her most dangerous instincts, it was him."

"And then the children began to disappear," Elijah says, not as a question, already predicting - horribly - where this story will go. He's seen many like it over the long course of his life. Nothing corrupts a soul, mortal or not, quite like the taste of great power.

"The first was a little girl named Amelie Dupres, from Algiers," Josephine continues. "Then LuAnn Hughes, from the Ninth, followed by Nicole Asace, from the Treme. All young kids, all witch prodigies. All vanished into thin air. Vincent put together a search group with men from each of the covens, but the killer cloaked the children so quickly their locator spells were useless. But because of Vincent's tenacity, she was caught. He was able to slap a locator spell on one of the kids right after he got snatched, and he finally got a visual of who the kidnapper was. His own wife. He confronted her and realized the truth, that she was behind everything from the beginning. She kept pleading with him, just three more, just three more..."

"Why three?" Caroline asks.

"To complete the rite of Nines."

"Rite of Nines?" Gia frowns. "What is that?"

"Eva thought that if she sacrificed a witch from each of the nine covens, it would create a new witch order in New Orleans. She would've been more powerful than any elder, any Harvest girl... More powerful than anyone."

"But why did it have to be children?" Gia asks.

"Because their magic is untapped," Caroline supplies, eyes flashing dark. "It's the purest form of magic."

"Indeed," Josephine agrees. "And they're far easier to subdue."

Caroline's expression tightens. "That's why she went after my baby."

"She would've killed your daughter, channeled her powers, as she did those other poor children," Josephine says. "We never found any of them. They died unconsecrated, unable to be with our ancestors, used as a source for Eva's magic."

Elijah leans forward on his chair. "So let us find her, before she takes more lives, including my sister's. Help us stop her."

"We agree she must be stopped. No more of our youth will die." Josephine stands to her feet and the tattooed witch comes to stand beside her, staring none too pleasantly at them. "That is why, Mr. Mikaelson, I will not extend your 24 hours. Eva Sinclair now has a bounty on her head."

Elijah springs up. "You would condemn my sister to her death."

"I dislike the term collateral damage, but there it is. If one or two must fall in order to take Eva down for good... So be it."

"Let me assure you, madame Larue, we will defend your witches with fearsome vigilance," he insists, sensing he's losing her. Not even Gia playing a complete private jazz concert here would fix this. The last thing he wants is to be on opposing sides to the witches again. It did not end well for anyone before. The coven has more resources and knowledge to locate Eva; if the witches get to her before they do...

"You have a wonderful way with words, really," Josephine says, an empty grin on her lips. "Your cadence is pleasant. Normally, I could listen to it all day long, but I grow tired of this. My mind remains unchanged."

"Seriously?" Caroline snaps, indignation firing behind her voice as she stands to her feet. "She puts on a talent show for you, he has every vampire in the Quarter kissing your ass, and your final answer is _screw you_? He's practically begging."

"Caroline -" Gia tries to intercede, but Caroline cuts her off by putting a hand out.

"No. I'm right."

"We came here to honor the alliance between us," Elijah says, hardening his tone. "If this is something you wish to rescind, so be it."

Josephine takes a step forward, her blank expression tightening with an emotion. "Don't you dare walk into my house and threaten me. I am not the one that needs you, Elijah Mikaelson. It is you who needs us, or you will soon enough." She then turns to Caroline, grabbing her wrists and leveling her with a piercing look. Caroline's body goes stiff, her lips pressed into a firm line. "There's a storm coming, cherie," Josephine tells her, her voice carrying a somber timer that makes even Elijah shiver. "And your darkest demons ride upon it. I do not know its name, but when I peer into your future, there is a blackness... That should terrify you."

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Klaus guides Freya to the tomb in Lafayette Cemetery that has become the derelict home of once former great Esther Mikaelson. Ever since she was released from Finn's control, she's been staying there, hiding in the shadows like a sewer rat, waiting for Klaus to come and feed her every once in a while.

He could put her out of her misery, of course, but death would be too swift a punishment for all the harm she has caused. Although she certainly does fear it, seeing as she hasn't killed herself yet. It wouldn't be pretty, but there are ways. Like the little hole in the ceiling that allows for daylight to seep in. Without a daylight ring, she'd catch fire in a second. A painful way to go, but rather simple. Still, Esther resists the temptation as the coward that she is, too scared to stand up to her own preaching, too scared to end her own suffering.

If he were a pious son, he might let her leave, pick herself up, go figure out how to live out there as a vampire so she'll know exactly what she put her children through. No doubt her journey would be a bumpy one, colored by tons of innocent blood spilled in the process. It would teach Esther a thing or two about _monsters_ and how they are made. She always seemed to think it was a choice they made to be hungry merciless beasts, when, in truth, they were only ever trying to survive. Then again, it's probably his mother's fault he hasn't got a pious bone nor a merciful one in his body.

So, instead, he keeps her on the edge of life, consumed by hunger, but not weak enough to desiccate, and trapped in a tomb that's been spelled to keep her from escaping. Completely at the mercy of his generosity (or lack thereof). Nothing short of the monstrosity she always expected of him. Klaus does so hate to disappoint.

Now, however, for the first time, she has the chance to prove herself useful.

"I don't see the need for these," Freya grits out, no doubt uncomfortable in those shackles. "I'm not your enemy. I would've come with you willingly."

"Oh, they're not to protect me, love. They're to protect her. The one who knows all about mind invasion and body jumping than all of us put together."

Klaus throws his mother two blood bags, and watches as her desperate little hands grab onto the bags like one would to life itself. She sucks the bags dry in a blink. He doubts that's enough to make her strong, considering how long she's been there, but it's sufficient for what they need.

Freya turns to him with a question in her eyes. Klaus simply smiles at his sister. It takes her another beat to understand what she is looking at. And when she does, her face contorts with a blend of contempt and fear.

"No. No!" she spits out with despair, trying to step away, but he holds her in place.

"Mother," he says, pointing a hand at her as Esther peeks from behind a statue. "Freya. Freya, mother."

"It can't be..." Esther speaks weakly, her ashen complexion creasing into disbelief.

"You won't trust me, yet you would trust her?!" Freya hisses at him, trying to shove him off.

"I trust my mother about as much as I would a stuck snake. Fortunately, she is now a vampire, and as such, vulnerable to my compulsion."

Klaus walks up to Esther, still on the ground, and grabs her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You will answer me truthfully." He pulls her up none too gently then, dragging her closer to Freya. "Now at least everything that comes out of her wretched mouth will be honest. Let's raid mommy dearest's mind for spells, shall we?"

Esther pulls away from Klaus, eyes wide as she studies Freya. "My beautiful girl..." she speaks after a moment, her voice rich with affection. "My first child..."

She reaches out to touch her daughter, but Freya takes an abrupt step back, baring her teeth at their mother. "Touch me and I will use these chains to strangle you!"

"No violence until she's finished with the spell, please," he steps in between the two of them. "Honestly, it's all temper and no timing with this one. I for one am glad you gave her away so that I could be born. You should think of me as an upgrade." He smiles pleasantly at Esther, her lips twisting in anger at him. "Well, now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, let's begin, shall we? It appears your delightful sister Dahlia is on her way to New Orleans and hell-bent on stealing my daughter. I need Rebekah back in her original body so she can help me destroy her."

Esther frowns. "Your... Your daughter?"

"Ah, yes. I suppose it is difficult keeping up on current events whilst rotting inside a tomb. The short version, then. My daughter is alive, Dahlia has risen and, according to Freya, is on her way to us, but it so happens that the previous tenant of Rebekah's body has decided to cause us trouble by seizing control and isn't keen on giving it up. Young Freya here, although powerful, lacks the spell to put Rebekah back, and here's where you come in."

Klaus holds her face again, his eyes burning into hers. "I need you to be a dear and dig deep in that ex-witch mind of yours. Give me the spell that puts Rebekah back."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

They meet back with Marcel at the compound, and it seems like he didn't fare much better on his end. In fact, he might've done _worse_.

He employed Vincent's help and the two of them did manage to locate Eva. As it turned out, he knew just where his ex-wife would've gone. They managed to contain her with the manacles and were in the process of grilling her for the location of the kids she's captured.

But Eva, even locked up and bound, is a tough one to break. She knew they wouldn't do anything to her, and wouldn't try to get Rebekah out either, while she didn't give them what they wanted to know. She'd cloaked the location of her victims, and the only way to get access to the information would be to negotiate with her. Not that Marcel wasn't willing to use raw strength and see how it'd go.

Vincent asked for a moment to speak to her in private and, believing his intentions to be good, Marcel allowed it. Whatever she said to him, it changed Vincent's mind. He turned on Marcel and knocked him out. When he woke up, the two of them were gone - and the manacles were left behind, uselessly discarded on the ground.

"Great," Caroline huffs out, irritated, as she rocks Eve in her arms. "So Eva is still in the win and now she has a sidekick."

"The charming Vincent Griffith," Elijah speaks with a distasteful twist of his lips.

"It gets worse..." Marcel says. "Eva said she has Davina and I can’t contact her. If that's true, then she has eight of the witches she needs to finish the ritual. She just needs one more."

Caroline bites back on a curse. "What the hell are we supposed to do if she comes for Eve? I can't let her take my daughter, Rebekah or no Rebekah."

"Fortify the house," Elijah says, getting on battle mode. "When they do come, kill him, capture her."

"How am I going to capture her? She kicked my ass this morning."

"I will not abandon my sister."

"And I don't want to abandon Rebekah either, I'm just saying -"

"Caroline," he cuts her off with a sharp look. "Gather what wolves you have at your disposal. With Vincent by her side, she will strike with considerable force. Marcel and I will try to intercept them before they get here. Shall we?"

Before Caroline can offer any objections, Elijah is already out the door. Marcel arches his eyebrows apologetically at her and then follows.

And where the freaking hell is Klaus? He said he'd stay with the baby, but he left her with an army stationed outside her door and Camille watching her. No one knows where the hell he went. Now would be a good freaking time for hybrid daddy to be home.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"This place smells like werewolf," Gia notes as she picks up some toys from the floor.

When Elijah left with Marcel, she volunteered to stay back and help out, in case Eva came back for Eve. Caroline has placed all the wolves she could gather downstairs, blocking all the entrances, and has entrenched herself in her bedroom with the baby. This way, if they come, they'll hear it and have some time to prepare. Or... something. She doesn't really have a plan. Hope for the best doesn't sound very solid, but it's all she's got at the moment.

"Well, this is a baby wolf," she says, placing a kiss on top of her daughter's head while she plays with a plush toy on Caroline's lap. "There is a daddy half-wolf and an entire platoon of them stationed outside. It would be weird if it didn't." She looks up at Gia then. She was confused before on why she'd joined them on their mission to Josephine Larue's mansion, and she's confused now on why she decided to stay behind. "You don't really have to stay here, Gia. You can go."

"Elijah says you and your kid have more than one enemy," she offers easily. "If someone manages to make it through the dog show outside, you and the baby run, I stay and stall them."

Caroline blinks at her. That sort of gratuitous kindness isn't something you come upon every day around New Orleans. Usually, it prompts a lot of suspicion, but Caroline doesn't think Elijah would shack up with a skeevy person. He doesn't have Klaus' self-destructive tendencies, not if the threat could affect other people, anyway. He's been hanging out with Gia for a long time; if there was anything weird about her, he would know, and he would've been the first to keep her out. The fact he trusts her enough to leave her here with Eve speaks volumes. Caroline is touched, but also genuinely surprised.

"You don't even know me,” she says. “Why would you put yourself in harm's way for us?"

"I don't have to know you. I know Elijah. And... I know what you mean to him. What this baby means to him."

Caroline feels an awkward flush, and then she looks down at Eve. "He talks about me with you?"

Gia huffs out a laugh. "Not really. But I'm not blind. It's pretty obvious you had the guy all bent out of shape."

"Look, Elijah and I... We never -"

"I know," Gia cuts her off gently. "That much he told me. We started hanging out after your ceremony thing with that werewolf guy, and Elijah was just so... Wound up. Like he needed an outlet. Something that wasn't about his family. About Klaus. Or you."

Caroline nods her head once. "It's no picnic spending a thousand years being the shoulder everyone leans on."

"No joke..."

She shifts a little in her seat, enough so she's facing Gia. "I know we don't know each other, but... I think it's great that you're with -"

"We're not _together_ ," Gia corrects her with a certain urgency, like she doesn’t want to _presume_.

Caroline smiles, rolling her eyes. "That you're _hanging out_ , then. If that's how we're going to call it now." Gia chuckles as she relaxes a little. "I think... A lot of what Elijah feels for me has to do with this little troublemaker here. The things she represents. That _I_ used to represent before... Well." She shrugs. "He needs to step outside. Breathe some air that doesn't smell like werewolf. He's never going to be completely apart from his family, and at this point, I don't even think it would be healthy for any of them to go their own way. They need each other. But I agree with you, Elijah deserves to live his life for himself for once. And I am just really glad that he's not alone."

Gia smiles softly. She rubs Caroline as a very private person, not unlike Elijah, but when she smiles openly, her eyes just light up. "You really _are_ nice."

"I'm _great_. Why ever would you think that I’m not?"

When Gia starts laughing, Caroline can’t help but crack up as well, but their little enjoyment is cut short when they hear a fight breaking out on the first floor. Caroline springs up to her feet and steps outside on the walkway to see what's going on. Two werewolves are sent flying across the courtyard, crashing against the wall before dropping unconscious. Vincent walks in right after, which means Eva must be right behind.

" _Crap_. They're here," she curses under her breath, going back inside the room and pacing around anxiously with her heart pounding in her skull. _Think, Caroline. Think._ She locks eyes with Gia, and suddenly she knows exactly what she needs to do.

Caroline wraps a blanket around Eve, grabs the travel bag she'd prepared and puts it on Gia's shoulder.

"What? What are you -"

"Take the baby," she says, pushing Eve into the other woman's arms. Her daughter looks up at her with big eyes, her lips pursed as though she might cry. It breaks Caroline's heart, but she keeps her steadfast resolve.

"What are you doing? I told you, I'll hold them off -"

"Gia, you saw what they just did to those men outside. They're practically hybrids. You're a baby vamp, you won't last a second. Take my daughter and run as fast as you can. I'll hold them off."

Gia looks stricken with doubt, holding Eve as though the baby is a bomb ready to explode. "You're a baby vamp, too," she counters weakly.

"I'm the next best thing under the sun after a hybrid. I'll take my chances. If anything, at least I'll stall them longer. Now go. And don't stop until you're certain that you're safe. Then call Elijah, tell him where you are."

"He's going to kill me -"

"Gia, if you don't take my baby away from here right now, _I'm_ going to kill you," she says in a crisp, furious tone. By the look Gia gives her, she imagines her eyes must be wild and flashing in gold. " _Go_!"

"Goddamnit," she curses, fixing the bag on her shoulder and holding tight onto Eve. "Don't die." Another second later and she's blurred out of there.

Caroline inhales deeply as she turns back to the door, waiting, her heart painfully tight in her chest. She balls her hands into fists then, setting her face to determination, channeling her inner Klaus. She can do this. Witches have taken her daughter from her once; she's not gonna let them do it again.

"Come and get me, fuckers."

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Elijah enters the compound with his heart beating manically in his throat and a sickness festering in the pit of his stomach. _Please, please, please_ , he keeps repeating in his mind like a mantra, words to push away the ghost of last year. This sour tang in his mouth is only too familiar. He almost doesn't want to go in, afraid of what he'll find.

When he got the call from Gia, saying that she was in his loft, in Algiers, with Eve, that Vincent and Eva had come for them but they'd escaped in safety, Elijah let out a breath of relief - and then it hit him that she was missing someone. "Caroline?"

Gia hesitates for excruciatingly long seconds. "She stayed behind to slow them down. I tried to stop her, Elijah, I told her to run, but she pushed the baby into my arms and said she'd kill me if I didn't take her. She thought she'd have a better chance, give me more time to escape. I didn't know what to do."

A wave of panic washed over him then. _Caroline…_ She shouldn't have. She _couldn't_ have. The three of them should've run together. _Stupid, brave Caroline._

In a second, Elijah was on his way to the compound, all the while knowing that, whatever had happened, for better or for worse, he would be too late.

_But what if you're too late? You don't have to worry that I will never forgive you, Elijah, because you will never forgive yourself._

Niklaus' voice reverberates, dark and ominous, in his mind. His brother wasn't wrong. He told Caroline to stay put and left. Again. If anything happened to her... He might as well allow Niklaus to unleash all the might of his wrath upon him. He'll deserve it.

In the courtyard, all he sees are four werewolves stretched out on the floor. He doesn't have time to check if they are alive, though. "Search the first floor," he tells Marcel as he flies up the stairs.

Elijah combs through every room, but aside from signs of struggle in her bedroom, he can't find her anywhere. Not a single drop of blood. This doesn't make sense. If she'd managed to outrun them, then she would've gotten in touch with Gia already, obviously concerned for her child. If she hasn't -

Marcel enters the room a moment later shaking his head solemnly letting him know he had no better luck.

"She's not here," Elijah says, standing to his feet from where he was crouched next to a broken music box on the floor. "They took her. Why would they do that? She's of not use to them."

Marcel's phone rings and his face twists up angrily when he sees the caller. "When I find you, I'm gonna rip your head from your neck," he hisses.

"You might wanna hold off on that decapitation," Vincent Griffith speaks on the other end. "I found them all. Davina's alive. They're all alive. Sorry I attacked you, man, but I had to make it look convincing. If you were in on the plan, Eva would've known."

“Ask him about Caroline,” Elijah demands.

"What did you do to Caroline?"

"She's here, too."

"Why did you take her?"

"Eva wanted the child, but when she realized she wasn't there, she got angry, decided she wasn't gonna leave empty-handed. So she put the mother down instead, to channel her in order to have enough power to go after the second option for the ninth witch."

"Who?"

"Josephine Larue."

Elijah shuts his eyes for a second, scrubbing a hand across his hair. "Is she all right? Marcel, ask him -"

Marcel gesticulates for him to wait. "Is Caroline ok?"

"Yeah. Well... She's alive. But she's down, like the rest of them."

"What did you do?"

"I stopped her from completing the rite of Nines."

"What are you waiting for, then? Just wake them all up."

"See, it’s not that simple. We got a problem. These kids... They're all linked to Eva. If she dies, they will all die with her."

"So keep her down. We'll find a witch to unlink them."

"Yeah... If you wanna save Rebekah, we're gonna need somebody with some _serious_ power to undo this."

Marcel exchanges a meaningful look with Elijah.

They need Freya.

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"I can't do this!" Freya snarls in fury, slamming her hand down as she analyzes the spell Esther wrote down for her. "This spell requires an enormous amount of power!”

"Which I was led to believe you have in heaps," Klaus points out tartly.

"The power needs to be anchored or I'll be lost inside Eva's mind, along with Rebekah." She casts her manic eyes upon Esther, hatred flashing through them. "Unlike your magic, mine isn't anchored to any one place. Because of _you_ , I have no home."

"Perhaps. But there is no other spell," Esther replies with a dismissive shrug. The woman comes face to face with the daughter she thought she'd lost a thousand years ago, her emotions all heightened from transitioning into a vampire, and, after a brief theatrical show of surprise, she acts with such nonchalance. She truly is colder than anyone ever gave her credit for. Klaus can honestly say that there is someone who is far crueler than him, after all. He cannot fathom ever feeling this sort of detachment towards his own daughter.

Freya clenches her teeth, staring hard at the spell, until her face smooths into an epiphany. She lifts her eyes to him. "You," she breathes out. "I can use you as my anchor. I'll channel your power while I breach Eva's mind, and it'll keep me from getting lost."

"Oh, there it is," Esther says with a tut. "Just like her mentor, she'll offer to help you. For a price. If she channels you, Niklaus, she'll have access to your mind, past and present. She will know everything about you."

Klaus narrows his eyes at his sister, tilting his head to the side. "All my strategies... All my secrets, laid bare to give to Dahlia. You must think I'm a fool."

"Unless it's not a trick," says Elijah as he enters the tomb in hurried steps. His eyes cut to Freya, a flare of urgency behind them when he says, "I'll be the anchor."

"I think not, brother," Klaus counters heatedly.

Elijah turns to him with a dark expression. "They have Caroline."

Klaus' heart grinds and then lurches violently in his chest. His expression smoothing out in cold disbelief before it crumples up with black rage as he flashes over to his brother, shoving him harshly up against the wall. "How did that happen?!"

Elijah pushes him off. "She was defending your daughter. We got word that Eva had tried a different witch, so Marcel and I went to find her, but it was a distraction."

"She took my daughter as well?!"

"No. Gia fled with her, but Caroline stayed back to fight them off."

A vicious roar rips out of Klaus' mouth as he shoves Elijah against the wall once more. " _Gia_ escaped with my child while her mother perished?!"

"She's not dead!" He wraps his hands painfully around Klaus' wrists until he lets go. "We can save her _and_ Rebekah. But we need Freya."

Klaus snarls, spitting fire, trying to wrest away the worst of his anger for the time being so he can keep his mind sharp. He casts a warning look at Freya, and then turns back to Elijah. "Lead the way."

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Freya barks out commands as she outlines a salt circle on the ground, already free of her manacles. She didn't even need anyone to remove them for her. Niklaus slapped them onto her wrists and she allowed him to believe that he had her at an advantage, but the truth is she could've gotten rid of them whenever she pleased - which she did, as soon as they left Esther's tomb.

Vincent led them to a set of abandoned warehouses further away up the river, the place where Eva had been keeping her victims cloaked for years. They're there, in a separate room: the children, Davina, Josephine and Caroline. All peacefully asleep, with a bloody mark carved onto their foreheads. Caroline's mark is different from the others, and she's desiccated, as though she were dead. Niklaus almost had a stroke when he set eyes on her, but Vincent assured them that it was a channeling spell, and she wasn't gone.

"If she were dead, it would defeat the purpose. There would be no magic to draw from. She looks like this because Eva's taking up all of her vitality, but if we manage to put her down and cut the connection, she should be fine. They all should be."

The use of the word _should_ didn't satisfy Elijah in the least, but they had no time to dwell on Vincent's lack of assurance. For now, they need to concentrate on what they can do.

Eva has grown massively more powerful by channeling Caroline, which means it'll be harder still to get Rebekah back. The longer they take, the weaker their sister grows, and then the only way to stop the witch will be to kill her - and if she dies, everyone she's linked to dies with her.

"Lay her inside the salt and you two lie on either side of her," Freya tells Marcel and Vincent. "Each of you take her hand. I will act as a bridge to take the two of you into her mind, but I'm trusting you to anchor me, brother," she says, turning to Elijah.

"We both will," Klaus cuts in. He looks sullen and in complete agony, but for Caroline he won't even think twice.

"Do what you need to do," Elijah assures her.

She nods at them. "This will be hard. Rebekah's buried deep. Eva will not give her up without a fight."

"Then she gets a fight."

"Be careful," she warns Marcel and Vincent. "You're entering Eva's territory. If she kills you in there, you won't come back. And if you kill her before you free Rebekah, then Rebekah will be gone forever. Once you have Rebekah, then and only then, can Eva be dealt with."

"We got it," Vincent says, closing his eyes.

"What happens to the people linked to her?" Niklaus asks.

"Once Eva's gone and Rebekah is free, I'll sever the link. They should all be fine, assuming Eva doesn't win."

He sees in his brother's face that the recurrent use of the word _should_ bothers him just as much.

Freya puts her hands out for the two of them to take. Elijah holds on to her first, and then Niklaus, after a second's hesitation, does too. "We're not finished, you and I," he tells their sister. "But for right now... Save my sister, and get Caroline back."

Freya closes her eyes and begins chanting under her breath. Instantly, Elijah feels as though he's been hit by an electric discharge. A violent gust of wind blows into the warehouse; it's hard to even hold their stance. There's a force, palpable, strong, trying to pull them apart, but Elijah takes his brother's hand and the two of them clench their teeth and hold on with all their might.

As Freya's chanting picks up, her voice rising to a near shout, they sense the energy coursing through them getting stronger, hotter, uncomfortable even. He can feel his sister inside of him, her essence pulling at his strings, commanding all his life force. This is how she must get access to their thoughts and memories, he thinks. When he looks at Niklaus, he finds his brother has scrunched his eyes shut, deep in concentration, likely trying to keep her away from the most sensitive parts as much as he can.

 _Something_ is certainly happening, but there's no way to know what, if the spell is working as it should, or if Marcel and Vincent are being successful. Freya tightens her grip on their arms and screams her incantation from the top of her lungs. All of a sudden, they are pulled apart. The wind stops blowing, Freya stops chanting, throwing her head back as she catches her breath. Marcel and Vincent both sit up with a gasp, but Eva remains down.

"Did it work?" Niklaus asks.

They hear voices coming from the back room where the children are, one of them sounds like Davina. In a blur, the two of them and Marcel are rushing towards them. All of the kids, Davina and Josephine, are stirring awake in varying degrees of disgruntlement. Marcel kneels down next to the little witch and wraps his arms tightly around her.

He and Niklaus, however, are frozen on their spot.

Unlike everyone else, Caroline remains down, grey, her veins darkened and brittle under her skin.

Niklaus walks slowly up to her, his steps hesitating and fearful, crouching down and pulling her into his arms. All color has drained from his face, his eyes overbright with an emotion Elijah cannot even describe. Again he is stricken by that terrible feeling of deja vu, of having seen all of this before. He feels sick with dread.

Klaus touches Caroline's face gently. "Wake up, sweetheart," he coos. "Come on." He bites on the inside of his wrist and forces his blood into her mouth. It takes too long a heartbeat, but slowly, the color begins to creep back into her cheeks. The mark on her forehead fades away, healing. A moment later, she startles awake as well, quivering in Niklaus' arms.

Elijah shuts his eyes in gratefulness.

"What happened?" Caroline enquiries, looking up at Klaus and then around the room, her voice coarse and tight.

"Freya severed the links," Klaus offers.

"Eve?"

"She's safe."

"What about Rebekah?"

He and his brother exchange an anxious look, until they hear a _Bloody hell_ cutting through the unnerving quietness. Niklaus smiles as Caroline exhales heavily in relief, pulling him into a firm hug.

A quake passes through Elijah, the release of terror so overwhelming he fears, for a moment, he might collapse. He breathes in gratitude as he exhales the worst of his worry, although he knows it'll never fully go away. Sometimes it's as though there's no way to ever be completely safe in this world of theirs.

It makes him think of Gia, and how very nearly caught in all this she was. She's not a hybrid, not an honorary werewolf. She’s not even a part of the problem. She would've served Eva no purpose. The witch would've probably killed her in anger at not finding his niece. Instead, they could've lost Caroline. It's a cruel, cruel world, and one made all the darker just by being close to him, to them, to his cursed family. Sometimes he wonders whether the right thing to do wouldn't be to set them all free, keep them all at a distance.

For now, however, he's just going to content himself with the fact that everyone got out of this alive, and that Eva is no longer an issue.

Elijah smiles shortly at Caroline when their eyes meet, and then he whirls around and goes to check on Rebekah.

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That chin really does not look right.

It's not at all as delicate as Rebekah remembers her own face. But now she's kind of scared of peeking into the coffin where her body has been stored only to find out that her chin has been like that all along and she just couldn't see it with her arrogant original thousand-year-old eyes. Is this really how other people had been seeing her all this time?

Rebekah sighs. She does miss her old body. The power, the strength, that sensation of utter invulnerability. It's such a strange thing to live in fright. Even though she's no longer a vampire, she doesn't think she's ever felt things more acutely than now. Her heart beats faster. Food tastes different. Pain hurts more. Fear can be overwhelming. It puts everything under perspective. Perhaps they've spent all this time thinking that their vampirical emotions were an exaggeration in order to justify the way they behave, but, in truth, it's been the other way around all along. Ephemerality makes everything more real, and oh so... Human.

Isn't this what she'd been desperately chasing, after all? True humanity.

Nik traipses into the ballroom, a bottle of bourbon already firmly in his hands.

"What?" Rebekah asks when he stops by the entrance, eyeing her while he takes a swig from his bottle. Even the looks Nik gives her are fiercer as a human. "You're not fishing for a thank you, I hope."

"I'd find myself freezing in hell before I got one from you," he snorts humorously as he approaches her. "Well, come on, then. Let's get you back in your proper body. Though I'll likely have to torture Freya and Esther to do so - which actually might be quite fun. I could use some fun right now."

Rebekah sighs, looking away from her brother and back to her portrait. She never really saw it before, but they do kind of look alike, don't they? The chin... God, does she have Nik's _chin_?

"No, Nik," she says softly. "I'm staying put. Eva's gone for good, but her body - this body - is still linked to Davina and those children. I can feel it." A harsh line appears between his eyebrows, and she already knows what's going through his mind. "Not Caroline. She was a different sort of connection, that's been definitively broken. I can't feel her anymore. But I know if I leave this body, then it will die and Davina and the others will die with it."

Nik clicks his tongue. "So bloody what?"

"I happen to like Davina. I'm not about to let her die." He rolls his eyes, taking the bottle up to his lips once more. "Besides, do you really want the wrath of every New Orleans witch upon us just as Dahlia arrives? We need them on our side or at the very least not siding against us." Rebekah pauses. She really doesn't want Davina to die, and it is sound not to annoy creatures that can cause them trouble in a time of crisis, but - the reason that weighs the heaviest on her right now is a different one. "There's also the matter of Kol. I vowed to bring him back. I can't even attempt to do that if I'm not a witch anymore."

Rebekah still has no idea how to go about it. She may be a witch, and Eva, apparently, was a rather powerful one, but she has no idea how to tap into that power or even where to start with her search. All she knows is, if there is a chance at all, then she'll only find it in Eva's body. She won't break her promise to her brother. Not if she can help it.

"I don't like the idea of any of you occupying vulnerable, mortal bodies," Nik grumbles, his expression darkening. "Especially since Freya's been inside my head. She knows all my secrets."

Rebekah snorts. "So she knows you drink a lot and go very far, for very few. So bloody what? Niklaus... For one second, can we just be what we need to be, a family united?"

Klaus cups her cheek, his face softening into a grin. "For now," he says. "For you." He touches his forehead to hers and then places a gentle kiss there. Rebekah lets out a contented sigh. Nothing quite like near permanent death to get Nik to show a little affection.

The way he's been acting lately, and how paranoid he is, it mustn't have been an easy decision for him to allow Freya into his head. Rebekah would like to flatter herself thinking that it was all for her, but she knows Caroline being in danger obviously played a heavy part in it. Still, she knows Nik would fight for her as well. As crazy as he is, as insufferable and irrational as he can get, no one fights more viciously for their family.

Besides, Rebekah is not jealous of losing her spot as his only favorite girl. She'll gladly split it in three. Having real feelings can never be a bad thing for Nik. Or so she hopes. As long as Caroline is around to curb the worst of his outbursts and force him to behave... It's good to see him flailing about as he tries to walk the line for her. He'll learn. Eventually. Baby steps for her millennium-old brother.

"Nik?" she calls as he traipses away with his bottle. "Thank you."

Klaus stops, turns around and smiles at her. His chin doesn't look half bad when he's smiling.

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Eve’s chubby stomach is just too tempting not to be tickled. Caroline's changed her diaper and every time she does a little scratch on her daughter's tummy, she screeches and kicks her little legs, erupting into merry laughter - and Caroline, obviously, laughs with her. It's just too adorable.

It's amazing how silly, simply things are suddenly the most extraordinary wonders in the world, such as tickling a little baby and watching it burst into laughter like it's the greatest invention since the wheels. Caroline could do this for freaking ever and never get tired. One minute she's lying desiccated on the floor of an old warehouse on the brink of death, the next she's enjoying herself thoroughly just by listening to the sweet sound of her baby’s laughter. Life in New Orleans is so weird.

Where the hell did she leave her phone? She should be making videos of this for posterity. Rebekah sent her tons and tons of photos and videos she recorded from the months they were away and Caroline spends most of her nights now watching those nonstop. Maybe if she watches those videos enough times, she'll eventually be able to not cry when she thinks of all the firsts she wasn't there to see. Or at least not _ugly_ cry. That would be something already.

There's a soft knock, and she turns mid-laughter to see Elijah hovering by the door.

"Hey, uncle Elijah! Come in! There's baby deliciousness for all!" Caroline pretends to bite on her tiny feet, and Eve can barely hold herself from so much laughter, writhing on the bed.

Elijah sits down next to them, and when Caroline looks up at him, her own smile wanes. "What is it?"

"How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

"Rebekah says she can still feel the children linked to her body."

"Yeah, but not me. I was a different case; it was a classic channeling spell. A dark and nasty one, but it broke completely when her spirit died. I'm 100% free. Don't worry," she says in an upbeat tune.

"Easier said than done," Elijah offers around an exhale. He's quiet for a moment longer, watching as Eve tries to catch his fingers as he waves them in front of her face, particularly distracted by his daylight ring. "You told Gia to run."

"And she did an amazing job."

"You knew they'd kill her, so you risked your life to save hers."

"You say that like I was looking forward to dying myself." Elijah gives her a pointed look. "I just figured I had a better shot against them than she did, both at fighting _and_ at escaping. The plan was to distract them long enough for her to get away and then get out myself. I wasn't counting on Eva wanting to draw power from me. But I guess that was still better than the alternative."

"What you did... It was reckless, irresponsible and completely insane, Caroline," he scolds, his voice harsh but restrained. "You could've left your daughter without a mother. This family - _our_ family - cannot cope without you. _Niklaus_ cannot cope without you. And I -" He stutters, clamps his mouth shut, swallowing. "I could never forgive myself if anything had happened to you."

"Elijah -"

"Having said that," he interrupts, locking eyes with her, his dark ones filled with deep gratitude. "What you did was incredibly generous and brave and I cannot thank you enough for saving her life."

Caroline smiles warmly, putting a hand on top of his. "We're family, right? One of the first things you said to me when I arrived here and I barely knew you was that family fights for each other - and the ones we care for. I haven't done anything you haven’t done for me." Elijah lifts her hand to his mouth and places a soft kiss on her knuckles. Then he stands up and kisses the top of her head.

Eve wasn't the only good thing Klaus has brought to Caroline's life. She's also very grateful for the attached siblings. Most of them, anyway.

Speaking of Klaus...

Caroline hasn't seen him since they parted ways, still at the warehouse. She went with Elijah to his place to get Eve while Klaus drove home with Rebekah. All the time she's been here, he hasn't shown his face. She heard his voice once or twice, which is how she knows he's home, but other than that...

Being with this little bundle of joy actually got her mind off of it, but now that she thinks about him, the concern is back full force. It had been hammering at the back of her mind almost since she woke up in that place. It was a happy ending, everything turned out well, and still Klaus had those storm clouds hovering above his head. If she had to guess, she'd say he's been crawling from room to room, emptying bottle after bottle ever since. That's his cure for everything these days.

"Elijah," she calls him back before he leaves. "I'm worried about him. He was spiraling before this, now..." Caroline trails off, a dejected sigh escaping her lips.

"He is tormented by last year's trauma."

"I know. And I've tried to reason with him, but... I can't reach him. He's not willing to listen to anyone. Not even me," Caroline says, looking at Elijah in sheer helplessness. Klaus' lack of reason is impossible to deal with, which means trying to talk about it invariably leads to a fight, and she simply doesn't know what else to do. "Should I start punching him?"

Elijah smiles tenderly, but the look in his eyes says she’s not alone in her preoccupation.

"We'll just have to handle him as we go and hope for the best. Perhaps if we get rid of aunt Dahlia hastily enough, there might not be much cause for drastic measures, such as throwing punches. Not that he doesn't constantly ask for it."

Caroline purses her lips, not too convinced, and looks back at Eve.

"Yeah... Get rid of aunt Dahlia... Piece of cake, huh?"

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It's in times like this, when he finds himself wallowing in his own misery with a bourbon, that Klaus misses Elijah the most. For all his faults, his brother was a good drinking mate, one who knew the value of retiring into the depths of a bottle in times of great distress.

While Klaus sits here on his own, however, knocking back glass after glass without finding an inch of solace, Elijah is probably frolicking about with his new vampire lady friend. Klaus twists his lips at the thought. He's not exactly one to judge, considering what one of his most recent affairs ended up causing, but that's not to say he won't judge anyway. Especially when Elijah's affair has already put Caroline's life in danger.

It's entirely possible he's also jealous. Klaus is not fond of sharing his family's attention. First Elijah moves out, then he gets himself a sweetheart. What's next? A baby?

It reminds him… He should check on his. He trusts Caroline has been fussing over her since she picked her up from Elijah's and brought her home, but after the monumental security failure of today, he needs to make sure that those useless werewolves are going to do their jobs. There's one reason and one reason only why Klaus tolerates their sodden presence under his roof and around his family and it's because they're supposed to _protect_ them. What's their bloody point if they can't even do that?

He's made a point of trying not to drink in front of the baby, for whatever reason. It's not like she understands what she's seeing, but... It just seems like the polite thing to do. Plus, Caroline's taken to glaring at him whenever she sees him with a glass - which is almost always.

Klaus hardly ever gets drunk. It takes true backbreaking effort for a vampire to become inebriated, harder still for an Original one. Eventually, though, when he's in the right (awful) mood and the circumstances beg for it, if he drinks too much, too fast, then he might get there. It never lasts long enough, though. Sadly. What alcohol offers is this sense of mitigation, a distraction from the afflictions of his soul. It might make him reckless or bold or sometimes, in rare occasions, mildly chipper.

Tonight, he almost made it to the drunk line and it did absolutely nothing to quench the turbulence inside his skull. If anything, it made him testier, which is precisely why he decided to stay away from other living beings. With the exception of Rebekah, with whom he interacted briefly shortly after their return to the compound. It was downhill from then on.

He can make an exception for his child, though. For one, she doesn’t judge her old father the way the rest of the family does. Her pure, innocent eyes are a relief.

Klaus makes his way to the baby's room and finds two wolves stationed outside her door. "If you let anything happen to this girl, you better hope whoever attacks you finishes you both before I get my hands on you," he hisses dangerously at them.

"We don't answer to you," one of them has the audacity to retort.

"Clearly, or else today wouldn't have been as disgraceful as it was. Your group's lack of leadership shows." The man opens his mouth to counter him again, but Klaus raises his tone above his. "I would not, if I were you. Trust me, mate, you don't want to try me right now. Step out of my way."

The two men exchange a look before they allow him to pass, shooting daggers as he does. He’s so shaking in his boots at their ugly glares.

Watching Eve sleep has been one of the few merciful reprieves to Klaus' mind in these tempestuous times. He's found himself here, in her room, almost every night, just standing by her crib, his own heart beating in tandem with her little one. It brings him some much needed clarity, even if it adds to the weight of his responsibility. Everything he does, it's to ensure that she will have nights like this for the rest of her life. Calm and quiet, populated with nothing but sweet dreams, under the cover of safety.

He may not be the most skilled of parents, has never really known how to act around children, especially the small ones. It's unlikely that he'll ever get any Father of the Year awards, but when it comes to protecting the ones he loves, Klaus is unrivaled. He's not likely to be singing Eve any lullabies, but he will guard her with everything he's got, and maybe that's enough. So long as she still has her mother, that is.

The door leading directly to Caroline's room is ajar, and Klaus sees her standing there, close to her bed, watching him with a blank expression. He feels himself sink into the fresh depth of despair that took over him this afternoon, when he marched into that storage to see her desiccated body on the ground. He gets a sharp prick of anger - at her, at this Gia person, at Elijah and at himself, even - but mostly, at least for now, he is cold with a fear he cannot quantify.

This is where want and need, non-threatening in the idle comfort of the morning when he wakes up with her lying next to him, turns terrifying. All through tonight he's had that terrible nightmare raw and hot at the forefront of his mind, as though he'd just risen from it, every detail as clear as it was then. The tranquility on Caroline's face as she lay pale and dead inside a coffin, a hole carved in her chest where her heart should be.

Klaus' hands clench tightly beside him as he wills the thoughts away, eyes fixed on her. She stares at him as though he's something that requires deep examination, or perhaps intensive care. He doesn't know which is worse. That's not what he would want to see in her eyes when she looks at him.

He doesn't wait for a proper invitation to enter her room, leaving the door to Eve's nursery just a crack open.

For long seconds, they just stare at each other - Caroline's eyes glittering in the low light with something he can't quite read.

"Hi," she finally says into the lasting silence.

Klaus prowls toward her. "What you did today, Caroline..." he starts, voice pitched low and strained. "Putting our daughter in the hands of a nobody. Throwing yourself in harm's way. You have no idea how furious you've made me." He's not even done talking and an objection has already risen to Caroline's lips, her shoulders setting in a defensive posture. " _Shhhh_. Don't talk back."

Her face crumples into an indignant grimace. "Don't _shush_ me."

"If you talk, we will quarrel. And I do not wish to quarrel with you tonight."

"Oh, so you just want me to stand here quietly while I get scolded?" she asks, a sneer in her voice.

Klaus stops a hair's breadth away from her. Caroline flinches, her breath hitching just barely. Need thrums through Klaus' veins, licking him up on the inside like wildfire. He's all too aware of his embarrassingly thunderous heartbeats, but he doesn't mind.

"Right now, I just want to..." he trails off, cupping her face with a hand so gently, the other running smoothly down her arm. Caroline's throat moves as she swallows, her eyes lowering from his, to his mouth.

Both her hands come to rest on his neck, tingles rushing down his spine as her fingertips dance along his jaw. She is the one who cuts the final, agonizing distance between them, pressing her lips to his in a feather-light kiss. Klaus' hand slides down the side of her body, to the small of her back, his palm pushing her closer into him, and Caroline yields.

When he parts his lips to deepen the kiss, Caroline allows him, tilting her head to the side to grant him access, one of her legs pressing between his as she pushes herself flush against him. Klaus can feel her heart beating madly against his chest, her hands smoothing down his body until her fingers are deftly digging under the hem of his shirt, touching his skin. He groans lowly in complaint when she moves away slightly, just enough to pull his shirt over his head. He immediately dives back in, ready to slide his hands under her thighs and hitch her up, but she puts a hand out to stop him.

"Wait," she whispers.

Caroline walks back to Eve's room and peeks inside, checking that everything's fine before she shuts the door closed and turns back to him, a wolfish curve on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes that sends a twitch down Klaus' body. "We can't wake the baby," she says, undoing the knot on her silky robe and letting it slide down her shoulders. Her nightgown goes next, pooling easily around her feet as she pushes the straps off her shoulders, nothing but colorful panties underneath.

He opens his mouth as his eyes rake down the curves of her body, her breasts, the swell of her nipples, with a greedy kind of hunger. In a blur, Klaus has his arms around her, his arousal pressing insistently against the tightness of his jeans. Caroline moans sinfully into the kiss, fingers combing into his hair, her thigh rubbing mercilessly against his crotch. Every hair on his body stands to attention at the friction of her hardened nipples against his chest, ripping a groan from his mouth as his muscles flex.

He picks her up again, grabbing a handful of ass in the process, nuzzling his face into the hollow of her throat as he carries her to the bed, depositing her down onto the mattress. Klaus presses down on top of her, her thighs clenching on his sides as their kiss grows hungrier, an avid expression of the need burning inside of him.

He doesn't even know how long it's been since they were last together like this - a week, two, _forever_. Every day he goes by without touching Caroline feels like an eternity. There's a void inside of him created by her distance, and it's only beginning to fill now, fed by the heat of her mouth and the scrape of her teeth on his lips. He sees something vast and undecipherable in her eyes, a dozen different feelings fleeting through - warmth and lust and desperate, wanton need. That's how she should look at him. Like she loves him and could never let him go, like she needs him as much as her next breath, like she knows no one will ever want her the way he does, love her the way he does, pleasure her the way he does. Like he'll always be her end all, from here to the end of times.

 _Like she is mine_ , a sharp voice whispers in the back of his head.

He buries his face into her neck, biting her, hard enough that it would leave a bruise if she didn't heal fast. Caroline sinks her nails into his shoulders, dragging them up, making Klaus hiss against her skin. He wishes he would mark, that his body would bear witness to what that woman does to him, just as he wishes he could brand her. He would leave his mark just above her collarbone, where he sucks intently, so everyone would see. He would then mark her breast, right next to her nipple, which he takes in his mouth, sucking on it with the barest scrape of his teeth to worry on the sensitive part while he tugs on the other one. Caroline exhales loudly, her fingers pulling at his hair.

His tongue leaves a wet trail down her stomach, around her navel, all the way to the hem of her underwear. Klaus stretches her legs further apart, his mouth latching onto the smooth skin on the inside her thigh, while his finger drags teasingly against the crotch of her panties. Caroline writhes, biting back on a curse under her breath, pushing down onto his fingers. He stretches the fabric into a string, rubbing it against her clit. She lets out a louder moan, and he smirks against her skin, biting her yet again. "Shhhh," he speaks gently. "There's people sleeping in the next room," he teases. "There's people standing right outside."

Caroline jerks her head up, freezing in shock with her lips parted as though only now realizing it. "Oh, fuck," she breathes out. "The wolves."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, pulling away.

Her fingers clutch tightly on his hair as she guides his head back between her thighs. "Don't even think about it. I'll be quiet."

Klaus smiles, taking that as a challenge.

He rips the last piece of clothing off of her and is treated to a mild frown only, which immediately vanishes as one finger slowly touches her, just circling her slit, not penetrating her, not yet, just teasing the wet mess of her arousal. Caroline's expression smooths into bliss as she throws her head back, biting on her lip. She attempts to coax him into doing more, and he keeps evading her demands as she grows pushier and more impatient.

"Klaus..." she breathes out. "Can you just... For the love of God, just -"

"Shhhh..."

" _Stop shushing me!_ " she grinds out, lifting her head in annoyance.

A smirk curves at his lips, thoroughly amused to see her protest morph into a strangled _Oh fuck_ as he lets one finger slide in, hooking it inside of her. She hums, her thighs clenching, and he inserts a second digit then. Caroline rolls her hips down unabashed. He leaves a trail of kisses on the innermost part of her thighs before he finally reaches her core, his lips touching the wet mess of her. Klaus' tongue darts out in gentle, teasing caresses, relishing the feeling of her body tensing each time he does it, before finally attacking her most sensitive parts until Caroline has completely forgotten about the wolves stationed outside, the unflattering noises coming out of her only too easy to capture. Klaus is not at all shy about these things, has never minded an audience, but he knows Caroline is not so free with her intimacy. She's young still, there's much for her to live and learn. But if he cannot mark her, then he can at least make them _listen_ so they will know she is _his_.

The cage of his jeans has become painful by now, but Klaus resists the urge to relieve himself, or to rut down on the bed. He enjoys the pain. Tonight is not about gratification, it's not playful or light like so many of the nights he's spent with her over the last year or so. Tonight is about reassurance, about release. About making Caroline _need_ him the way he needs her. As though her whole body might explode if she doesn't have him. As though his touch is the only thing that will ever make her sound again. That line between madness and soundness, pleasure and pain, is a rather fine one.

Klaus feels the climax building in her and doesn’t stop, attacking her clit more savagely until she comes undone around his fingers with a gasp, her back arching over the bed before she relaxes completely. He lifts his head, licking his swollen lips, his eyes devouring as he takes in her state - flushed, spent and glowing, staring at him from under her eyelashes. Caroline hoists herself up enough to hook a hand around his neck and pull him down into a plundering kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. She moans again when she feels his bulge rubbing against her middle, the rough material of his clothes swiping mercilessly on her sensitive clit. It isn’t long before she is reaching between their bodies, fingers deftly undoing his belt and opening his trousers to free his cock without ever breaking apart. Klaus exhales loudly against her mouth at the relief, rock hard and begging for attention.

Caroline wraps her fingers around his length, giving him a few pumps. He's so slick he can easily fuck her dry hand. But that's not what he wants.

Disentangling himself from her is almost physically painful, but he does it as quickly as he can manage, kicking out of his clothes before he lies back on top of her. Caroline welcomes him with a kiss and a nibble, sucking his lower lip into her mouth. She spreads her legs further apart to accommodate him, but he tests her limits once more by teasing her folds with his cock, rocking his hips against her and pushing the head just a little bit. Caroline's breath hitches, fingers digging into his back.

Klaus buries his face into the curve of her neck, teeth closing around the point where her pulse is stronger. Goosebumps travel across his body as he breathes her in, that formidable smell of arousal and sweat and _him_ , deep-seated all over her body. It makes him growl, his beast roaring inside of him as he grinds against her harder. When he finally slides into her, he does it all once, quickly, going deep. Caroline clamps around him, whimpering, her teeth closing around his shoulder hard, with a hint of fangs grazing his skin. Klaus grunts loudly, a feral sound that tears out of his chest as he begins to pound into her. With each thrust, Caroline squirms, her noises escalating as they lose themselves into the mad rhythm.

"Klaus..." she moans, his name, her breathless voice like music to his feverish ears.

"Klaus..." she goes again.

" _Klaus_."

It's only when she puts a hand to his chest to gently push him back that he realizes she'd been calling to him, not moaning his name in pleasure. He stops moving, buried inside of her, a sudden urgency taking over him.

"Am I hurting you?"

Caroline touches his face. "You're hurting yourself."

In one fluid movement, she rolls around so that he's lying on his back and she's the one on top, careful as to not break the full contact. She exhales sharply as she settles down onto him with a light roll of her hips, his cock going deeper still inside of her. But then she freezes, leaning down, placing a soft kiss on his lips. He tastes a bit of blood in her mouth, and realizes she must've sunk her fangs deeper than he realized. He barely felt it, so lost in his own mind as he was.

"You're too tense," she whispers gently, peppering his face with kisses. First on his cheeks, then his eyelids, then his jaw, kissing away the hard lines on his expression. "You're in here..." She kisses his temple. "You're always in here now. I can't reach you there, and I don't like that. I want you here..." She takes his hand to her mouth, kissing each of his fingertips and then his palm. "With me."

"I am," he counters weakly, knowing very well that she is right.

Caroline shakes her head again. "I want to see you when I look into your eyes. And I want you to see _me_."

She straightens up, the beautiful line of her back arching as she splays her palms on his chest for support and begins to move. She starts riding him, pulling up and then moving down with a roll of her hips, picking up the rhythm as she goes. Her lips part as she gasps, eyes glinting with delight every time he gets buried to the hilt. It's as though the whole world stops moving, just the two of them locked in the moment. All he sees is Caroline, perfect in all of her glory, bouncing on top of him with intent in her eyes locked onto his, her sounds rattling off the walls and echoing deep inside his chest. He puts a hand on her ass, helping to guide her movement. His free hand finds her clit, making her shudder with each stroke.

She can't resist throwing her head back anymore, lifting a hand to tug on her own nipple. Klaus bucks up against her, teeth clenched with each grinding movement. It gets hungrier, faster, a loud slapping sound each time they meet. Klaus’ hands tighten on her as he slams deep with a grunt, spilling inside of her. Caroline clenches deliciously around him, rocking her hips to push him on. "Keep going," she commands. "Don't stop now."

Klaus does as she asks and rides out his orgasm for her, swiping his fingers against her clit. Her orgasm comes not long after, with a whimper and a tighter clench that steals his breath away. Caroline collapses on top of him, and Klaus wraps his arms around her, brushing the hair off the side of her face. She looks absolutely glorious... Skin sleek and glistening with sweat against his, her cheekbones pink with feverish exertion.

He shuts his eyes, focusing on the mad pounding of her heart against his own as his breath slows down. She stays like that, so quiet, for a long time, and he starts to think she might have fallen asleep with him still inside her when she finally rolls off to lie on her back beside him.

"That was..." Caroline finishes her sentence with a contended breath and a smile.

"Pleasure is all mine, love."

"Oh, it's definitely not.”

She cuddles into him, one leg thrown over his, and Klaus opens his arm to fit her comfortably on the curve of his shoulder. She places a kiss on his chest and then settles her head there, draping an arm over him. "Will you stay here?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I always want you to stay."

"Not lately, you don't."

"That's because you've been acting crazy and annoying the hell out of me. It doesn't mean I don't miss you."

"Caroline -"

"Klaus," she cuts him off, lifting her head to look him in the eye. " _Shhhh._ Not now."

He smiles softly as she nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck.

Klaus throws one of the covers on top of them, keeping his eyes firmly on the ceiling while Caroline falls asleep. The mayhem in his head hasn't subsided in the least, but still Klaus finds peace. For now, anyway.

Slowly, sleep begins to pull at him, his eyelids heavy. In the warm comfort of Caroline's embrace, with her body pinning him down onto the bed and her easy breath and steady heartbeats to lull him, he finally finds it in himself to give in to an exhaustion that's kept him awake for so many nights in the last few weeks. If only he could always keep her like this...

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. lol
> 
> I'm afraid to ask, but also very much in need of some validation here! 😂 I have reached a hard spot with this fic and thought I should post an update. I could really, really use some encouragement and will be eternally grateful if you're willing to share! Also, if you enjoyed this chapter and particularly my rare smut scene, I would VERY much like to hear from you! Leaving comments and kudos makes a writer on the edge of freaking out about a giant-ass fic a lot cooler. Really appreciate it!
> 
> We continue on with Klaus' downward spiral and if you've watched TO, you'll know there were quite a number of changes in this chapter compared to the episode. Things are escalating fast.
> 
> I have a song in my head as soundtrack for THAT scene, you know which one, if you'd like some background music. It's **[I'll Be Good, by Jaymes Young](https://open.spotify.com/track/4JuJZzGcswQszYiKJSnC6i?si=LVIrANCwSKShYo_T6dwGgQ)**. As the incredible lyrics at the top suggests, this is the most KLAUS song I have ever heard, so I highly recommend it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	18. S02E18 Night Has a Thousand Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to those of you who were so kind to leave me a comment on the previous update! I was in the middle of a CRISIS trying to finish this story and it was very heart-warming to read all of your messages! 💖 Also, I was extremely IFFY about my first real attempt at adding smut to a fic. You guys were very gracious! 💖
> 
> Because of all your sweet messages both here and on tumblr, I tried to give you a quicker update. :) Hope you guys enjoy it! And let me know what you think! 
> 
> As always, this chapter was not beta'ed, so I apologize for any mistakes you I will certainly find as soon as I hit post.

* * *

_And you don't know what you've got until it's gone_  
_And you don't know who to love until you're lost_  
_And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed_  
_I wish you'd live like you're made of glass_

* * *

When Caroline wakes up to the warmth of sunlight on her skin for the first time in a week, she feels like the universe is sending her a message.

To say things have been _tense_ around the compound ever since Eva Sinclair's attack and posterior demise is an understatement. Not even the sun dared shine its light, the weather echoing the general mood in their household with dark clouds and constant rain. It was fitting, if too depressing.

This morning, when Caroline wakes up to a beautiful blue sky and a heated argument already running amok somewhere in the house, she decides the universe is trying to tell her that she should put the baby in a stroller and go for a walk outside. And since Jackson was around - one half of the altercation ringing loudly across the compound -, she asks him to join her. As far as personal bodyguards go, it can't get much better than a Crescent alpha.

She and Jackson haven't been having much time to catch up lately. He's busy with clan duties in the Bayou, what with all the new people who have joined the Crescents from other packs after the ceremony, while she's been reluctant to leave Eve for any extended periods of time, understandably so. Ever since Eva's attack however, Jackson's trips to the French Quarter are more frequent, though always rather fast and furious.

Instead of sending someone else to discuss the security breach with Klaus, he decided to face the wrath of the hybrid himself. It was a decision both brave and smart. Klaus wouldn't have thought twice before ripping off heads if anybody tried to talk back at him, but he knows Jackson is off limits. Well, all wolves are, but Jackson is _especially_ untouchable, which means he's forced to put a leash on his murderous instincts. Which is not to say fights were any less frequent or milder because of that.

Any vampire within the French Quarter probably heard the colorful and virulent expletives Caroline’s significant other directed at the alpha today. Klaus gets hella creative when he's in a _mood_.

Despite his kind disposition, Jackson does not shy away from a clash, which is fair, because Klaus' claims can often range from unreasonable to outrageous. So far, bless the Lord, they've kept it in the field of words. No punches have been exchanged, no blood has been shed - _yet_. Caroline is not very optimistic it will stay that way for much longer if they keep down that route. Right now, however, she will gladly take whatever small victory she can get these days.

Her own situation with Klaus is... Weird. They haven't been talking about the really important things, like the fact he's driving himself insane with paranoia. Or how he should listen to what other people have to say instead of dismissing everyone's opinions with a snap just because he thinks they're all ready to collude with his big sister, the most recent fabrication of his unstable brain. Or even how he can't blame the werewolves for everything and spit fire at people who are volunteering to protect their daughter all the goddamn time. Conversing about these matters invariably ends in arguments. Klaus thinks he's always right; Caroline thinks he's a jackass. There is no middle ground, except for one: sex.

Since they can't talk like two civilized adults, they shut each other up the only way that works. As much as she wishes they could have a serious conversation about the big things, she's not about to start complaining. It could be a _lot_ worse, like getting angry without any relief or contact, like they were doing before. A lot of snarling and glaring and blue-balling. At least this way what starts as a squabble ends in an orgasm. Or several. It doesn't fix anything, but she’s still orgasming, so.

Whatever victory she can get.

What might explain Klaus' _particularly_ explosive temper this morning, which led to a _particularly_ vicious spat with Jackson, is that last night they couldn't really... Settle the scores, so to speak. They were in the middle of an inspired make out session, already half undressed, when Eve's tiny wail got them disentangling from each other and rushing to the nursery like thunder. She was fine, just fussy, and she remained so for the rest of the night.

Eve is a very calm baby, usually sleeps all through the night, but the pediatrician warned Caroline on their last routine visit that she's teething, and some discomfort was to be expected. Now try telling Klaus that.

"How can you be sure this isn't a hex? Or that she wasn't spooked by an attempted break-in? I should get Davina Claire here."

His complete lack of familiarity when it comes to babies is understandable and also kind of endearing. The fact he's ready to take up arms to defend his daughter in a second is reassuring. But he also seriously needs to chill or else he’ll end up driving everyone crazy with him, including the baby.

Eve would stay quietly munching on her pacifier while Caroline or Klaus held her as they paced around the room, but the second they tried to put her down, she'd start crying again. When she finally passed out, dawn was almost breaking and whatever inspiration mommy and daddy had was pretty much dead.

Klaus stayed with her the whole time Eve was awake and tried his hand at calming the baby, but as soon as Caroline dropped in bed with the very intention of catching up on sleep, he placed a kiss on her forehead, wished her a good night and walked out. She was glad he was there for the worst of it, but she has to say, she was a little hurt that he didn't want to stay after. He fulfilled his fatherly duty towards the fussy infant, which was nice, but it's like the only reason he had to stay with her was to get some. As soon as he realized it wasn't happening, he signed off.

Caroline made a note to mention it some other time, too emotionally drained to start an argument just then, knowing that Eve would be up early anyway, so she just rolled onto her side and went to sleep. And when she woke up next, the house was coming down with Klaus' infuriated barks and Jackson's righteous comebacks.

It's not really hard to see how the sun shining bright felt like a small blessing that ought to be fully embraced.

On his part, Jackson was only too happy to leave the compound. Caroline didn't even try to present a defense of Klaus' temper, just straight-out asked him if he'd like to join her. He understood the tacit apology. _Please, don't send your wolves away. Don't listen to him, we need you guys here._

As soon as they step out, it's clear she wasn't the only one tempted by the grace of the good weather. The streets are bustling with movement. Caroline had been seeing the world almost exclusively through apocalyptic lenses; she kind of forgot that, outside of the supernatural cluster, life just moves on. It's honestly reinvigorating to get some sense of normalcy and breathe in the lawful chaotic air of the Quarter at its best. It's easy to let it slip that this city is rather fantastic, when it's not trying to kill you.

To get Jackson's mind off of Klaus and the Eva Sinclair clusterfuck, Caroline asks him about more pleasant things he actually likes talking about: the pack. He gladly fills her in on all the new developments she's missed out on. She gets a little pang of guilt over not being more involved; as an honorary Crescent who pledged her allegiance in a formal ceremony, she probably should, but… Well. She's also an honorary Mikaelson. Life, right?

Jackson explains how he's been working with the former alphas who submitted to him in order to make sure the transition runs smoothly. How they're coordinating in order to have eyes and ears spread all over the Louisiana portion of the Bayou and even in other states. How the camp has been slowly going back to normal, and even growing, with new cabins being brought up every day in a semi-orderly fashion. Even Mary has come out of her self-isolation, interacting more with the pack.

Jackson's eyes sparkle as he talks about his people. She hadn't seen him this optimistic and excited since before the bombs. Caroline’s genuinely happy for him and the werewolves; at least things are working out well for _someone_. And Jackson deserves this. He's a great man, a great leader, _born_ to do this. If nothing else, that ritual thing has, at the very least, given him back his fire. It's already worth it. Klaus would disagree. He has, indeed, just this morning. Loudly.

"The guys keep asking when you're going to come by," Jack tells her as they round the block to get back into Royal street.

"Why? I thought they'd be glad they don't have to mingle with the vampire they begrudgingly agreed to follow."

Jackson chuckles. "Well, I didn't say _all_ the guys were asking for you. But some of them are. Since they settled in with us, they've been hearing the full version of the stories. The things you did for the pack. How you helped us break our curse -"

"That was Eve," she points out.

"Eve would've never gotten around to doing it if it wasn't for you, so take some of the damn credit, Caroline," he speaks mildly, grinning.

Caroline rolls her eyes; doesn’t argue, but doesn’t concede either. Her daughter was named after a Crescent hero and she's not going to take away the glory of Eve’s actions by trying to make it about her. She'll go to her grave defending that Eve was the one who got them out of their curse. Whatever hand Caroline had in the process, it was minor compared to everything she did, it barely counts.

"Anyway. They've also heard about how you - you know. _Came to be_."

She snorts. "That's a funny way to say _died_."

Caroline doesn't appreciate addressing the fact as though it was some grand big thing that somehow made her a martyr. It was freaking murder, followed by the attempted murder of a newborn. There was nothing grand about it. She survived on a fluke, because of some magical bust-up no one thought was possible. And yet, everywhere she goes, people know exactly who she is. From miracle baby mama to vampire miracle mama. It makes her miss high school, when the name _Caroline Forbes_ meant something to every single person in Mystic High. Big fish in a small pond or whatever, but it meant something. Now she never gets to be _just_ herself. She's Caroline Forbes, comma, the vampire mother. She gets the uniqueness of her situation, but… It's just annoying.

She does, however, make an effort not to hold it against people, at least not the ones she knows mean well. Like Jackson. To the werewolves, the tragedy of her labor makes her something other than a mere vampire. She's... More, somehow. And, well, sometimes people are just gonna get judged on their one-offs, she guesses. Like if you go around separating people's heads from their bodies and then creepily putting it back together, even if your stint doesn't last more than a few years in the grand scheme of your unusually long life, you're bound to get called _The Ripper_ for the rest of your days. If you get murdered in a church giving birth to your impossible tribrid baby meant to be sacrificed, that's probably something that's gonna stick, too.

But can anybody blame her for wanting to move on from that already? It seems like the echoes of that night never stop coming back to haunt her. First it was Esther. Then Finn. Then another psycho child kidnapper. And now Dahlia. Won't it ever freaking _end_?

Eve seems really drawn to a woman playing some upbeat tune on a violin, so Caroline stops to let her listen to it. The woman notices her cute infant fan and starts playing for them. When she's done, Caroline thanks her and puts some money in her case. As soon as they start walking again, though, the musician starts on a sad and eerie tune that sends a weird shiver up her spine. She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out where the music is from, but it doesn't sound like anything she's ever heard, not even in passing. When she looks back over her shoulder, the musician is staring directly at them with hawk eyes.

"That song," she turns to Jackson. "What is it?"

He shrugs, and Caroline decides to drop it as one of those Quarter eccentricities. They don't make it much further before she realizes a waiter standing in front of a restaurant is also gazing at them with that same ominous stare. He’s just written something on the daily menu board. _A PROMISE MADE IS A DEBT TO BE PAID_.

That's a damn weird message to have on your restaurant's door.

Caroline's getting a really bad feeling about this and is just about to bolt back to the compound when a man comes up to them, holding some beautiful dark flowers out to them.

"Flower, miss?" he asks with a friendly smile. "A gift for the child."

"No, we're all right. Thank you," Jackson says, stepping forward to gently usher the man away, also catching the weird vibe that seems to have settled upon the whole street.

"You sure? Black dahlias are in bloom. They're quite lovely."

Caroline's hands tighten around the stroller, her jaw clenching as she tries to move past the guy and run back to the compound, ready to lift the stroller and take full advantage of her vampire speed. At this point, she couldn't care less if anybody sees her. The man grabs hold of her arm, though, and his eyes become glazed over, his irises paling into white.

She closes her fist to hit him square in the jaw, but someone gets ahead of her, flashing by and holding the man by his throat to peel him away.

Caroline breathes out more relieved when she sees Klaus, although her heart still pounds insanely in her chest.

"Show yourself, witch!" Klaus' voice rings loudly across the street.

That's when she notices something wrong with Jackson. He seems dizzy, swaying on his feet with his head down. When he lifts it back up, his eyes are glassy white as well.

"Klaus!" Caroline screams.

"I am here," Jackson speaks in a cold, empty tune. "I am everywhere. And I intend to take what is mine."

"It's her," Klaus grits out, standing between Caroline and Jackson while she leans protectively over Eve.

Jackson blinks rapidly, grunting as he shakes his head, then his eyes return to normal. "What? What just happened?"

Caroline exchanges a defeated look with Klaus as, all around them, people start walking normally, picking up on their conversations and activities as though they'd never stopped.

"She found us."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"What is the bloody point of a fortress? It does a better job of protecting you when you stay within its walls!" Niklaus vociferates at Caroline, mercilessly berating her for taking a mindless stroll outside. As though she needs his cantankerous yelling to feel any guiltier than she already does. It's written all over her face.

She stares blankly at him while he spits fire, offering almost no excuses. Elijah suspects the fact she stepped out in the sole company of Jackson Kenner is at least half the reason why Niklaus is so beside himself. After the home invasion a few days back, he's been more distrustful of werewolves in general than ever, and he has a very particular grouse, drenched in jealousy, against Jackson. If Caroline had asked _him_ to walk with her, he probably wouldn't have said no and wouldn't be lashing out the way he is. But since she forsook his company in favor of Jackson's, well...

"Ok," Caroline replies, dispassionately. "We get it. I screwed up. Can we figure out what the hell we're gonna do now?"

Niklaus grits his teeth like a mad dog, and already Elijah knows nothing good will come out of his mouth. "What I would like to do is take a strong leash -"

" _Children,_ please," he intercedes, cutting off his brother before he can make things worse. "Niklaus, your ire is perfectly justified. However, Caroline is quite right." She purses her lips, making a _what did I say?_ gesture with her hand. "We need to find a new strategy. Freya, if you please..." He motions for his older sister to take over.

After the incident outside, an emergency family meeting was called, and they all gathered in the dining room to hear Freya's verdict. If anyone will know exactly what happened and why, it's her. But before she could even say anything, Niklaus just started yapping about how _irresponsible_ and _outrageous_ it is to take Eve outside in the sole company of a _useless, weakling bog pet who can't even protect himself from a possession by a witch who wasn't even in the premises_. His words.

While he poured the foul contents of his heart out, Freya started preparing a concoction of some sort. He takes it that will be a lot more useful than Klaus' opinions.

"This spell you described," she starts, finally getting a breach to speak as she pours her mixture into five teacups. "Dahlia calls it kenning, using proxies to watch her enemies from afar, but I've never seen it done on quite this scale."

"Awesome," Caroline grumbles. "So basically, every hurricane-chugging, boob-flashing tourist on Bourbon Street is a potential spy."

"The good news is, I know a little about how her magic works. This tonic will at least prevent her from using any of us."

Freya puts the tray down in front of them, and Rebekah wastes no time before taking one of the cups. Caroline and Elijah just watch, both of them equally suspicious, while Niklaus turns his back and stalks off to the back of the room.

"Well, come on," Rebekah prods. "Should work like a charm. Bottoms up." She drinks the whole thing at once and then smiles.

Elijah sits down beside Caroline and takes two cups, pushing one in front of her. He then takes a third one and puts it out for his unusually quiet brother. As unpalatable as he is with his mouth open, it's usually his silences that are most worrisome.

"Niklaus, is there something you wish to contribute?"

He turns back to them, shrugging and pursing his lips. "I prefer biscuits with my tea."

"Of course," Elijah says flatly as he puts the cup down.

"Besides, our minds are far too strong to be invaded by kenning spells." There's some logic to what he says, but Elijah decides not to toy around with possibilities, sipping from his tea. If the child's father decides to stay vulnerable to mind control, then he'll be alone in it. With a defiant look on her face, eyes trained on Klaus, Caroline drinks from her cup as though doing it just to spite him. His eyes flash, but he doesn't remark on it. "So what we experienced was a test. Dahlia's watching to see how we respond to aggression. She's preparing for battle. My guess is sooner rather than later," he offers, rather soundly for a change.

"If she was watching us, she would know that we have an entire army around us," Caroline argues.

“And what great impression she must have of that _army_ if their alpha can be so easily overtaken,” he bites out.

"She also knows where we are, and, given the immense nature of her power, we simply have no idea what to expect from her," Elijah elaborates. "What we need is to create a new stronghold, something that Dahlia knows nothing about, a sanctuary from any witchcraft, where her influence will be null."

"That's a fine strategy. I offer another," Freya says. "We could use Jackson to trace her magic back to its source, find out exactly where she is."

Caroline makes a displeased face. She looks up at Klaus, who's grinning expectantly at her, arching his eyebrows as though daring her to say no to Freya's suggestion. His brother really should take some lessons on basic human interaction. His life would be made so much easier if he would only not make himself out to be such a cretin whenever the opportunity presents itself to him.

"Fine," Caroline grumbles. "Do it."

"Good! Then it's settled," Klaus says with a caustic brand of cheer. "Off you pop to your respective tasks. Me, I've always been of the opinion that the best defense is a good offense. So I'm gonna find a way to murder that godforsaken witch." He punctuates his sentence with a dimpled smile, miles away from the grumpy shrills of just a few minutes ago.

"Nothing lifts your mood quite like the idea of murder," Caroline remarks bitterly as she pushes off the table. "Good to know you've got your priorities sorted. I'll go talk to Jackson." She stalks off, the angry sounds of her boots stomping the old wooden floorboards resonating loudly in her wake.

"You're doing a fantastic job at alienating the mother of your child at such a critical moment, Niklaus. By all means, keep it up," Elijah says blandly.

"How is that my fault? She gives our daughter to one of Marcel's riffraff -"

"Gia," he corrects with a sharp look. "She has a name."

His brother just ignores him. "And then offers herself up for sacrifice -"

"She was merely trying to distract them.”.

"And now she goes for a _lovely stroll_ across the French Quarter with the ever valiant _Jackson_ while she knows very well that we're being targeted. And yet, somehow, I'm always the one in the wrong."

Elijah lets out a deeply wounded exhale. "Rebekah, do you mind?"

Rebekah stands up to her feet. "You're annoying and controlling and obsessive and it won't be long before Caroline decides to give you a good smacking and I, for one, would love to be there to see it." Rebekah grins at Niklaus' indignant look, whips around and leaves.

"Does that clarify things for you, brother?" he asks as he, too, pushes off the table, buttoning up his jacket. "If you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than try to explain common sense to you. Sister," he nods at Freya and then leaves to take care of his plan, only feeling mildly guilty that Freya has been the one left to handle Klaus' pouts.

She's new. She needs to learn what they've been putting up with for a thousand years.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus sees Davina sitting on a bench, arms and legs crossed impatiently as she waits for him. He smiles and waves, trying to be as cordial as he possibly can towards someone who would probably put a dagger through his heart if she thought it would stick. Davina huffs out in disgust and turns her face away.

Well, he tried.

They don't need to be friends; they just need to work together. Under normal circumstances, Klaus would absolutely loathe the idea of putting his trust in the hands of someone with such glaring hatred towards him, but he's come to learn that, sometimes, it's best to know one's enemies’ true feelings than to live under false pretenses. After getting betrayed left and right and paying the highest possible prices, he's come to admire how Davina makes no mystery of how much she can't stand him. At least they know it's mutual, so they can work from there.

He has something she desperately wants; he needs something from her. That's the perfect combination of factors and the only one he needs right now.

It wasn't even hard to strike a bargain with Kol's little witch. She's been stuck on her attempts at finding a resurrection spell to rescue his little brother from the depths of the underworld. It so happens that he is in possession of an ingredient that might help her make great progress: Kol's ashes. His _true_ ashes, from when he was vanquished in Mystic Falls. Davina's eyes widened when he told her that. She's never even seen Kol's face, has no idea what his brother looked like. However attracted she might've been to his Kaleb exterior, the temptation to have him back as he was is too great, even for someone with as much harbored bitterness towards him as young Davina.

All she needs to do to get her hands on this lovely treat is help Klaus track down Mikael and bring him back to New Orleans. Quite simple. Freya let it slip to them weeks ago that she's dispatched him to collect certain vital ingredients to forge a weapon that can kill Dahlia, and Klaus believes that, for once in over a thousand years, he and his father might be able to reach a mutual understanding on the best way to proceed regarding this weapon. He intends to hijack Freya's idea and finish Dahlia off himself - today, if possible. The wench is in town, he can tell.

According to Davina, Mikael should be on his way right now. He was already done retrieving these mysterious items, just waiting for Freya to call him back, but Davina's message got him most interested indeed, and so he anticipated his sad return to the Crescent City to hear what the witch had to offer.

Klaus can already picture his disappointment when he realizes that it's really his little bastard behind this summoning. There are very few things he fancies more than upsetting dear old dad.

While they wait, however, he has an important phone call to make.

Aiden picks up on the fifth ring. Usually, when he calls, people tend to answer posthaste. Unless it's Caroline and she's mad at him, which happens quite often, actually. She has a terrible habit of giving him the cold shoulder when he allegedly _gets on her nerves_ \- her words, not his. He would disagree with that assessment, of course. In his family, however, people take phone calls even when they're not speaking. When they don't, it spells trouble. Caroline should know the messages she's sending with her tantrums.

He wonders what Aiden was doing... Josh, perhaps.

"Yeah?" he says, a little breathless.

Klaus smirks, but he has no time for taunting. "Aiden, it seems your big, bad alpha has been compromised."

"What? What happened?"

"Relax, mate. Jackson is fine. He's just offered further proof of his general inadequacy. I can't trust him to guard Eve at the moment, so while my hands are full, won't you be a dear and serve as my eyes and ears at the compound? Report back anything I should know, especially where my daughter and her mother are concerned."

"Uhm... Yeah. Sure thing. On my way."

The response is less than enthusiastic, but Klaus trusts him to, at the very least, not be lying. If he was, indeed, in the company of his lover, Klaus can even understand his hesitation. He knows only too well what it's like to be pulled out of enjoyable activities in favor of dull missions that other people should be perfectly capable of doing but, in surprisingly incompetent turn of events, aren't.

"Good lad," he says, putting down his phone as he walks back to Davina, taking a seat beside her on the bench.

"So what's the deal?" she asks dispassionately. "Aiden at your beck and call now?"

"I'm simply mentoring a promising young wolf."

"Josh isn't gonna be too happy when he finds out about your _mentorship_."

"And I am _shaking_ in my boots at the mere thought of his displeasure," he says, voice dripping irony as he fixes her with a look. "You see, Davina, Josh and Aiden are in love, which means they both have something to lose, thus making them all too easily manipulated - should the need arise." He grins, a bit too proud of himself.

Davina shakes her head pitifully. "It must really suck to be you all the time."

His smile falters, he looks away from her. "It hasn't been a picnic, honestly,” he concurs somewhat grudgingly.

"You know, the thing is, you have that now, too, don't you? Someone you love more than anything, even yourself. Well, two someones, actually. How does that feel? To be one of us, someone with something to lose?" she asks acidly, taking pleasure on the expression she certainly sees on his face.

That, right there, has been the source of all of Klaus' recent woes: learning how to live as someone with something to lose. It hadn't been the case for him in over a century, and even before that, he hadn't really contemplated the idea of _losing_ that which was precious to him until he actually lost it, thus vowing to never again allow his stupid heart to take control of his better judgment. Obviously, he's failed miserably.

And Davina is right yet again: he doesn't just have one thing, he has two, both terribly fragile, even with their magical constitutions. One of them too young to be able to protect herself, the other too foolishly brave for her own good. Caroline is just as fierce as him when it comes to protecting the ones she cares about; the issue is that her list is far lengthier than Klaus'. While he would only ever risk himself for the sake of his family, she would do it for half the bloody innocent people of New Orleans. That's a problem, and a big one.

Klaus is only now getting to learn how agonizing it is to love someone so much he can't bear to watch them suffer. With his siblings, it was different. Their relationship is a most violent one, full of thorns. They've always hurt each other. With Caroline and his daughter... Klaus is constantly walking on eggshells, and he simply lacks the necessary subtlety not to stomp all over everything.

So what does it feel like to be someone with something to lose, she asks?

Torture. It's sheer torture.

"Klaus, there," Davina says, poking him and pointing to a taxi that stopped across the street from where they are. Mikael steps out of it like he's a fine gentleman, perfectly equipped with the skills to live in society. That’s laughable; the man has the darkest parts of Klaus' temper and none of his charm.

In a blink, Klaus has flashed over to him, shutting the car door for the other man. "Hello, father,” he greets with a mild grin.

An ugly smirk creeps up Mikael's horribly thin lips. "Well, well, well... If it isn't the bastard himself. Have come looking for another beating, boy?"

"As much as I'd love to kill you again, I wonder if our interests might be better served by joining forces." Mikael raises his eyebrows at him, a befuddled expression on his face that Klaus would find amusing if he had any kind of warm feelings towards that man. "You know full well the threat we face, so... How about it, _father_?" he stresses the last word, spitting it out dressed in customary venom. "Care to join your bastard son on a witch hunt?"

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Caroline feels a sharp stab of remorse when she sees Jackson cutting a miserable figure in their living room, sitting all by himself, with his elbows propped on his knees and his head hanging low. The grim expression on his face leaves no doubt as to how distressed he is over the possession incident. It just breaks her heart.

He was _so_ excited, telling her about the camp and the wolves, and then _bam_. Less than a day around Mikaelsons and he's made to feel as sad and dreary as the rest of them. She feels guilty for having asked him to walk with her. Should've just let him go back to his duties in the Bayou, where he's not only safer, but also definitely happier. This city cuts to his flesh just as it has cut to hers, and she can't help but feel bad when she sees him like this.

"Hey," she says quietly as she walks in. "You ok?"

He leans back against his seat, his face all hard lines. "That witch got in my head. I could've hurt you. Hurt the baby."

"It was not your fault, Jack. If you ask Klaus, after putting up with twenty minutes of gratuitous insults, he'll tell you we shouldn't even have gone out in the first place, and he's being a jackass about this, but he's right. We made ourselves vulnerable. _I_ made us vulnerable."

"It's not fair for you to not even be able to go outside because some maniac wants to kill your child."

"You just about summed up my entire life here in New Orleans.” She smiles sadly, taking a seat on an armchair beside his. "Here. Drink this. Freya said it'll keep Dahlia from getting in again."

He takes the teacup from her hands and takes a long drink. "I could feel her, Caroline. She's nothing but darkness." Jackson looks up at her, a flicker of determination crossing his eyes. "I have an idea. We can take Eve and the pack and leave town tonight.

"We can't just run from our home, Jack."

"You just said it yourself, this place has been trying to get you murdered since the day you arrived here. Is this what you call a home? And running isn't a sign of weakness. It's what wolves do. What we've had to do throughout time to survive." He shuffles forward in his seat, looking Caroline dead in the eye. "I know every inch of the Bayou. Out there, we're the predator. We can keep your daughter safe. At the very least, it'll buy us some time to get rid of Dahlia for good."

The way he talks, it sounds like this idea isn't something that just occurred to him now, but rather like something he's been giving a proper thought for a while. He seems to be forgetting a crucial part, though...

"Klaus will never agree to this," she says.

"Then ditch Klaus! He didn't make Eve by himself, you're her mother. You should have a say on this."

"And he's her father. I know Klaus has been acting crazy lately -"

"Crazy? Caroline, he's not sane or reasonable on a good day. He's completely lost his mind now."

Caroline clamps her mouth shut as she tries to come up with an appropriate reply. She understands Jackson's frustration, and can even see the merit of his idea. In a worst-case scenario situation, it might very well be their only option. But it's insane to think that she would ever do something like that without Klaus' consent. They may be awful at communicating, but their parenting has been working fine so far.

"I know you're thinking about the best for her, and I can't thank you enough, Jack, for everything you're doing for my daughter. But I can't run from Klaus. I wouldn't. I _won't_."

"I don't back out of a fight, Caroline," he says solemnly. "But this one started a thousand years ago. It's not your war. And it certainly ain't your daughter's."

"I'm angry all the time, Jackson, over some wicked witch coming out of God knows where to take my child because her psychotic grandmother made a bargain a thousand years ago. You have _no_ idea. But this _is_ my war. If someone tries to take my daughter from me, they're making it my war. Klaus didn't make the kid on his own, but neither did I."

Caroline pauses, looking down at her own hands, recalling a conversation she had ages ago, back when she was still a scared pregnant witch with no idea what to do with herself. "I once told Klaus that if I ever thought he was a danger to our daughter, he would never see us again. Right now, I'd say he is a danger to himself more than to anyone else. Everything he's doing, as misguided and wrong as it might be - and I’ll be the first to call him out on his bullshit - is to keep her safe. If he were an absent father with ulterior motives, I wouldn't think twice, but he's not, and you know that. He may be acting like a lunatic, but that’s because he’s driving himself sick with worry."

Caroline puts a hand on Jackson's arm and gives him a squeeze, smiling softly at her friend. "I appreciate you _so_ much, Jack, I hope you know that. And I understand if you don't want to stay. You're right, this is not your war. You don't have to put yourself or your pack in danger for us. Finn was a common enemy to us all; this, Dahlia, is not what you signed up for. So, really, I won't hold it against you _at all_ if you decide to take your guys and go back to the Bayou. But I'm staying put. This is my family now. _Klaus_ is my family. I'm not leaving him."

Jackson still has a pinch between his eyebrows when he looks at her, something very displeased about the set of his lips, but his voice sounds soft when he says, "You're a part of my pack now, too, Caroline. So is your daughter. And we don't abandon our own."

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Not in his wildest nightmares did Klaus ever envision himself going to a bloody café _with_ Mikael. How so very pedestrian. Grabbing a coffee with his father.

Obviously, the situation begs for something stronger, but he doesn't want to take Mikael to Rousseau's. He'd rather keep the man's dirty paws away from his favorite haunt. Besides, too many prying eyes - namely, Camille's. The information would spread like wildfire and it would be a second before he had his entire family swarming after him.

They can enjoy the pain of as mild a thing as coffee for the time being. And anyway, Klaus doesn't think this conversation will take too long. They'll either have a deal or they won't. In case the answer is negative, things are prone to get ugly hastily. He's come prepared, just in case.

"You want fries with that stake?" a waitress quips as she stops by their table to take their orders, nodding towards the white oak stake, which Klaus has placed right in front of him on the table. He laughs - it was a fine joke - and the young woman smiles at him. "I bought one of my own at Marie Laveau's voodoo shop."

"I'll have a coffee, please, sweetheart," he says, affably. "No sugar."

"Gotcha," she says with a wink, turning to Mikael then.

"Nothing," he growls. "Leave us."

The woman arches her brows and then scurries away, probably reading - correctly - the malicious intent in the old man's eyes.

"No need to take it out on the staff. She was just trying to earn some honest tips," Klaus teases.

"Am I to take lectures from you on social skills? Ridiculous," he grinds out, looking out the window beside them. It _is_ ironic, Klaus will give him that, especially since he has been in an awful mood lately. But if there's one thing he's always been is a generous tipper, especially to people who serve him well and don't ask questions. Camille is proof of that. "I despise this city."

"Then let us cut to the chase, shall we?" Klaus says, getting into business mode. "Your precious Freya told me she sent you off to procure certain items that will expedite the death of your sister-in-law. May I assume you completed the task?"

Mikael bares his teeth in a terrible smirk. "There are three elements total. Combined, they represent Dahlia's sole weakness. If you'd like to try and take them, by all means, have at it."

Klaus clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Your mind always drifts to violence, doesn't it? Even when you're so clearly outmatched. What was it you once tried teaching us? Ah, yes." He makes a mock-serious face at his father, copying Mikael's atrocious tone of voice. " _The true Viking warrior hones his fear like a blade._ "

Mikael's eyes flash. "Did you come here to critique my parenting skills or to whine about how little you were loved? I tried my best at teaching you, but you were too weak to learn. You were weak then, and you are weaker now."

Klaus props his elbows on the table, picking up the stake and presenting it to Mikael. "If you truly thought me weak, you would snatch this weapon from my hand." He can almost see the wheels turning in Mikael's head as he looks down at the stake, considering. But then his eyes snap back up, his face still perfectly blank but for a minor twitch on the corner of his lips. Mikael is a good many things, most of them awful, but he is not stupid.

"You won't, will you? Because you know better." He puts the stake back inside his jacket. "I suggest we focus on our common enemy. Rather than bringing your materials to Freya, drawing her into a fight she may not survive, why not join me? If we win, both of our daughters will be free, you'll be reunited with yours and I'll keep mine safe. If we lose..." Klaus shrugs, his lips curling into a smile. "Well, at least you die knowing the bastard finally got his due."

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"What do you mean, she's gone?" Elijah demands, not fully able to comprehend what Caroline and Rebekah are telling him.

Although _comprehend_ is not exactly the word. He comprehends quite well. He just refuses to accept it.

While he went back to Algiers to discuss the details of his plan with the involved parties, Rebekah and Caroline were left in charge of aiding Freya in combing through Jackson's mind to find the source of Dahlia's kenning spell. Jackson was very cooperative; him, too, interested in getting to the bottom of this as quickly as possible. But whilst Freya channeled Rebekah, she was able to sense Dahlia's power, and how their aunt had been channeling Freya herself.

Their sister is the source of their aunt's great power. Or so says Rebekah.

Freya claimed not to know anything about it and that Dahlia was merely trying to pit them against each other, isolate Freya from her family in order to weaken their plight, but Rebekah and Caroline were having none of it. Caroline was particularly insistent that she should leave, protective of her friends as she is.

Elijah can understand their concern; to think that all this time Dahlia had been using Freya to locate them and gain direct access to their home and their plans and how exactly they've been protecting Eve is... A lot. But Freya is still their one connection to Dahlia - not to mention _their sister_. If she says she was being used, Elijah would be at the very least willing to grant her the benefit of the doubt. They didn't act any better than Niklaus.

"She was a risk," Caroline provides simply.

"She is also the one person who intimately understands the enemy we now face," he counters.

"She was bringing Dahlia directly to us, Elijah. To _Eve_."

"She had no idea she was being used in such a manner, you said it yourself," Elijah points out in a sharp tone. "Do you think it is correct to exile someone in such circumstances? Dismiss them as an enemy when she might've been just as distressed over it as yourself?"

"That doesn't change anything!" Caroline exclaims heatedly. "She was still a hazard to my daughter. What if Dahlia had ways to control her like she did Jackson?"

"Both of you, just stop it," Rebekah steps forward, trying to keep the argument from escalating, but Caroline simply keeps going.

"I was protecting my daughter against someone who is obvious none of us can completely trust."

"Correct. We've done nothing but doubt Freya since she first arrived. Nevertheless, she kept her promises and she saved your lives. We certainly haven't demonstrated the same kindness towards her."

"So what do we do now?" Rebekah asks, having the decency to appear guilty. Caroline, however, still shoots daggers at him, firm in her convictions.

"There is a jazz club in Algiers by the name of St. James' Infirmary. Marcel has acquired it and Josephine is fortifying it as a sanctuary against magic. Pack your things,” he tells Caroline. “Marcel will escort you and Eve there tonight at 8 o'clock.”

Caroline's expression smooths in outrageous disbelief before she crinkles her brow and purses her lips. "Congratulations, Elijah. You’re doing a _great_ job of filling in Klaus’ controlling shoes while he’s not here."

“I am merely trying to keep you safe.”

“Even the excuse is the same,” she sneers. “Where is he, by the way?”

"Niklaus is doing... Whatever Niklaus is doing."

Huffing, Caroline grumbles as she marches out the door. "Great. Just freaking great."

"What about me?" Rebekah asks in a small voice.

"You wait here with me."

"What for?"

"If Freya should return, we'll be here," he replies, fixing her under a hard look. "Whether or not we trust her, Rebekah, we cannot win this fight without her. It'll be good for all of you to understand that sooner rather than later."

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"This is it," Davina says as she draws a salt circle on the ground. "One last favor, and if you don't give me his ashes, I swear I will -"

"Davina, whatever you may think of me, I'm a man of my word," Klaus says, pacing about while she prepares her spell.

"Actually," Mikael starts as he joins them, having left briefly to retrieve the three items. "He's a liar, a beast and a degenerate, but in this exceptional instance, he may be of _some_ use."

Klaus rolls his eyes lazily. "Oh, good. You're back.”

He wasn't entirely sure that he would be, in all truth. It was never _clear_ whether he'd accepted Klaus' proposal or not, but the lack of physical altercation implied that he did. Klaus told him where to go with the ingredients he'd collected for Freya and never heard a yes or no. He's mildly surprised that Mikael decided to come, after all - and also, maybe a bit... chafed. For once, he _wanted_ Mikael to show up, but the fact he did confirms something else that makes Klaus quite prickly, for whatever reason: he seems to genuinely care for Freya.

The fact he's willing to partner with the bastard he despises above everything else in order to protect his eldest daughter is... Disconcerting. Mikael would've never done that for any of his other children, not even his real ones, and not even before they were turned into bloodsucking monsters. If any of them got hurt, he'd berate them for being weak, punish them by leaving them to fend for themselves in the woods all night. Sometimes, he'd hurt them himself. But Freya... Freya he'll fight for. For Freya he'll even go to battle side by side with Klaus.

How so very touching.

"Dahlia's minions are gathered within St. Anne's church," Mikael says. "I followed them."

"Clearly, it's a trap."

"Of course it's a trap," he bites back. "And how good is it that we bring surprises of our own?"

Klaus' lips break into a smirk. However tempted he might be to just drive the stake inside his jacket through that man's heart, there's something to be said about collaborating with someone with a mind as warped as his own. It takes an incredibly great degree of malice and anger to get there; it’s not every day one runs into someone that free with their violent impulses.

"Wait," Davina says, staring at them like she can't quite believe what she sees before her. "So you two are friends now?"

"Absolutely not," Klaus states with intent. "We're merely aligned out of necessity for the purpose we both enjoy most... Glorious murder." Davina shakes her head like they're both crazy when they grin at each other. "And here's where you come in, sweetheart. You'll be helping."

"You said you needed a binding spell."

"And here, my lovely little witch, is what you will bind." Mikael crouches down before her, putting the ingredients in front of Davina. To her credit, she doesn't even flinch at his proximity, showing no fear at all. Klaus would be proud, if he actually liked her. "Soil from Dahlia's homeland, that which links her to this mortal coil. Along with Viking ash, that of her oppressors, the source of her immense hatred. And finally, the blood of her adopted child, my beloved daughter Freya, the closest thing to love that miserable witch has ever known."

"All the sources of her power bound together form a weakness," Davina chants like something she learned out of a school book. "So what do you want me to do with this?"

"Simple. Bind those ingredients to a weapon," Klaus says.

"Am I supposed to go to the toy store and get a slingshot?" she bites out.

Mikael fishes a hunting knife out of his leather jacket and hands it over to Davina, hilt first. "Use this."

"You just wouldn't be you if you didn't walk around carrying a knife, would you?” Klaus sneers. “This is the XXI century, Mikael. That sort of thing is frowned upon nowadays."

"Well, perhaps you can steal it later and dull it's blade with your _art_."

Klaus barks out a laugh and then checks himself. Temporary partnership, fine. Laughing at the old man's acidic quips - that's going too far, even if it sounds remarkably like a commentary he would make himself.

"Do us this favor," he says, turning to Davina. "Help us end this evil witch's reign, and I will live up to my end of our bargain. I swear it on my life."

Davina twists her lips. "Not worth a lot to me, but... I hope you know what you're doing."

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Rebekah hears a commotion in the courtyard and pokes her head out to see the battalion of wolves that Jackson has called upon to guard Caroline and Eve after this morning's incident in an uproar. Already her mind starts to imagine the worst, but as she flies down the stairs, heart beating in the back of her throat, she sees it's Freya.

"Let her through," Rebekah commands, letting out a relieved breath - both because it's not Dahlia, and because her sister has returned.

She was feeling all sorts of guilty after asking her to leave. Caroline was yelling for her to get away from Jackson, eying Freya like she was the devil impersonated, and Rebekah didn't know what else to do, herself filled with doubts over her sister's intentions. She doesn't want to say that she was influenced by Caroline's reaction, but she might as well have been, which - Elijah is right - is in no way an excuse.

Rebekah can understand why Caroline would be all shades of frantic; the girl has got a history with people coming into their home and stabbing her in the back. With her daughter upstairs, and after getting rounded by an entire street of people possessed by Dahlia's magic, she was understandably worked up, being overprotective of her child and her friend. But Rebekah should've known better.

She doesn't really know Freya that well, but she feels as though she always has. It's the strangest sensation, maybe something in their blood - or maybe not the _blood_ , since she's currently occupying someone else's body. Maybe something deeper still; like a connection of souls. Elijah's felt it too, she can tell. Unlike her, however, he's chosen to listen to his instincts, telling him to trust her.

Freya has busted her ass off some serious trouble twice now. The only reason it's Rebekah here now and not Eva Sinclair is because Freya risked her own neck to get her back from the depths of that woman's mind prison. Rebekah should've trusted her guts instead of that feeble evidence, taken Freya away from Caroline and figured out what to do. Freya was just as scared as the rest of them, just as disgruntled over the possibility of having carried Dahlia directly into their home. Instead of taking care of her as she would've any of her brothers, Rebekah told her to go away.

That's not what their family is about, and Freya _is_ one of them. Mikaelsons stick together, even when they want to tear at each other's throats, through thick and thin. Always and Forever.

"I'm actually glad you're here," she says as the wolves part for Rebekah to walk to her sister. She seems shaken, her eyes wide with fear.

"Freya," Elijah says softly, striding towards them as well.

"I saw her," Freya says. "Dahlia. She intends to make her move tonight. Klaus and our father will be her next victims."

“Our father?” Rebekah asks. “He’s here?” Freya nods in confirmation.

"And you have returned to warn the very people who would cast you out," Elijah says curtly, pinning Rebekah under a stern glare.

She holds her head down, shifting awkwardly.

"I understand Klaus' mistrust, as I do yours, but I did not come this far to see my family die at the hands of the very evil that I've tried for so long to escape." Freya’s voice breaks at the edges, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm begging you, help me save them."

Elijah doesn't even blink. "Tell me what you need."

"Dahlia will lure them into a trap."

"Where?" Rebekah asks.

"She prefers places of darkness. She'll be drawn to any site that's been steeped in death."

She snorts. "Welcome to New Orleans."

"No, I'm talking about... Dark power created by massacre, sacred ground that's been stained in the blood of the innocent."

Rebekah looks at Elijah and knows instantly that he's thinking the exact same thing.

"How about a church where a mother was murdered after being forced to give birth to her baby for a sacrifice?"

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Going back to St. Anne's church always sets a vertiginous shudder at the pit of Klaus' stomach. When he pushes the door open and sees that altar before him, memories of Caroline's dead body lying there instantly flash through his mind. He can almost smell the blood.

This place will forever be the home of the worst hours of Klaus' life. This ground is steeped in his shame. His raw howls still rattle across these walls. He never felt pain like what he felt that night. It doesn't matter how much time passes, this will always be the place where Klaus lost... everything. The light of his life. His daughter. The last shreds of his humanity. Not even getting it all back can erase what that night did to him. And it shouldn't. That kind of trauma should never go away; it must linger, so that he can be reminded of his own mistakes, never to repeat them.

In a manner, it's good that Dahlia has chosen this place to set her trap. It provides a sharp clarity of just what exactly he is fighting for. What he must prevent at all costs.

Klaus keeps the barbed depths of his emotions firmly restrained as they walk in, slowing making their way into that temple of death. The sound of their booted steps echoes loudly across the walls. The place is completely deserted.

"Well?" his voice booms into the silence. "What are you waiting for, you crone?"

"Now that you have arrived, not a thing."

Klaus and Mikael whip around at once to see a woman up on the altar that had been empty just a second before. She smiles calmly at them with her dark beaded eyes, hands clasped before her. The same woman he saw in Freya's vision, the one who took her away from Esther when she was but a child. She looks older, but not by much.

It’s not exactly what Klaus was expecting. He isn't entirely sure _what_ he was expecting, but... A more imposing figure, perhaps. A godly presence. After everything he's heard so far about this woman, he thought he'd be taken aback by her sheer presence. Instead, Dahlia just looks... Normal. Almost to the point of unremarkable. She exudes darkness just like Esther, but she lacks his mother's beauty. Perhaps that is the source of all her bitterness, then. Envy, so often the cause of discord within families.

"Let us begin, then," she announces devoid of any emotion, lifting her hands to invoke a gust of wind that shuts the church doors behind them at the same time dozens of her acolytes start flooding in, coming from all sides. There must be at least a hundred of them, if not more. He and Mikael are completely surrounded.

Now he finally has something to get the blood pumping in his veins, at last.

Mikael laughs. "We are well met. Are you ready?"

"I was born ready," Klaus rumbles, his beast rising to the surface as he lets out his fangs and claws.

In a beat, all the acolytes launch at them. As anyone who’s met him could’ve predicted, it's a carnage. Turns out he and Mikael are quite the formidable pair in battle, dancing as though to music as they move around in a perfect circle with men and women coming at them nonstop.

It's a little hard to take notice of anything else with so much action demanding his attention, but Klaus glances over at the altar every once in a while. Dahlia hasn't moved an inch, just watching with cold detachment as they murder her cult followers one after the other in the most vicious ways, slashing throats, ripping off hearts, lacerating veins and - Klaus' favorite - decapitating.

Turns out even massive slaughters can get boring after a while. They're many, but not particularly skilled, even though some of them know how to throw a punch and there's strength in numbers. Klaus just finishes them off one after the other, Mikael doing the exact same right behind him. He takes the opportunity to sink his teeth into a few necks, have a snack, replenish some of the energy he's wasting on these worthless puppets when he should be fighting their master.

It takes forever, but at last they seem to finish the lot of them. Klaus takes his time feeding longer from the last one before he drops the body to the ground. There are so many it's hard to even walk.

He's a royal mess, covered in blood from head to toe, but he wipes the worst of it off his face as he and Mikael jump over the bodies to stand before Dahlia, that same infuriating empty smile on her face.

She claps her hands unenthusiastically. "Quite the operatic performance, gentlemen, though that is the thing with the grand tragedies. In the end... All the heroes die."

With barely a flick of her wrist, Dahlia holds both of them in place. Klaus grunts, straining to move forward, but he's not in control of his own body anymore. Dahlia closes her fingers, and Klaus starts choking on the very air, as though his lungs were suddenly filled with water and he cannot breathe. His vision swims before him, he feels himself growing weaker, his struggle but a meek attempt at survival, his body suddenly hit with a terrible cold. He's _desiccating_. Dahlia is stealing all the blood from him, pulverizing it.

"You struggle with such passion," she says, mock-mournfully. "All in defense of the ones you love. An honorable quality, one which I had not anticipated, given the reputation which precedes you. Still..."

She lets him drop to the ground, freeing him from her mystical binds, but he's too weak to even hold himself up, barely a drop of blood left in him. Whatever strength he has left, however, Klaus gathers it at his core, putting an effort to reach the enchanted knife, which Mikael had dropped when Dahlia started choking them. He grinds his teeth, snarling furiously as he crawls towards it, stretching out his arm as far as it will go. Just as he finally closes his hands around the hilt and attempts to stand up, Dahlia says, humorously, “A bit too little... too late, my dear.”

She waves her hand in front of him and sends him flying across the church. Klaus hits the railings on the second floor violently, his bones cracking and bending, his skull exploding in excruciating pain, and then everything goes dark.

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"Wait here," Freya says, holding Elijah's wrist just as they're about to go into St. Anne's church.

There's no doubt that, whatever is going on inside, it is not going well for Niklaus. His brother was growling, a feral sound that thrums right through Elijah's bones, awakening the most primal of protective instincts in him. He wants to rush inside, defend his brother, even if he has made a complete idiot of himself with this ridiculous scheme of his. What in hell's name was he thinking, aligning himself with their father and going, just the two of them, to face Dahlia without even a word about it to anyone else?

He looks a question at his sister. What else does she need to be convinced of the urgency of the situation?

"I'll go first," she explains. "I'll keep Dahlia's attention on me, you go in after, but quietly. See to Niklaus."

He gives her a stiff nod and stands back as she goes in, the heavy church doors slamming closed once more.

"Enough!" Freya screams.

"My darling Freya," speaks another female voice in a nonchalant manner. "You do realize that this so-called family of yours is simply using you for your power. Still you'd want to protect them?"

" _No_ ," Freya barks. Even from behind the door, Elijah can hear the fury simmering beneath her words. Listening to her now, to the choke of emotion in her voice, it's shocking that they'd ever doubt Freya's intentions. Her hatred for Dahlia is palpable. "You're the one who used me for a thousand years. No more!"

"So be it."

There's a pause, and then Freya lets out a strangled scream. Elijah decides to wait no more and slips inside as quietly as he can. Dahlia is distracted, with her back turned, her hand stretched out before her as Freya struggles to breathe, eyes bulging in sheer despair as she claws at her neck.

He spots Niklaus out cold, fallen a few feet away. Further ahead, Mikael has a makeshift stake, made out of a piece of broken bench, in his hands, his teeth bared in a terrible grimace as he leaps towards Dahlia with a roar of sheer anguish. It’s like nothing Elijah remembers ever hearing coming from this man.

" _Step away from my daughter!_ " he screams.

Mikael drives the stake right through Dahlia's back, but she does no more than sputter, releasing her grip on Freya. She casts Mikael off with a wave of her hand, stumbling to the altar as she pulls the stake out.

Elijah flashes over to Klaus and bites on his wrist, dripping his blood into his brother's mouth. It takes him a moment, but, slowly, he starts to come to, the color returning to his face as he grabs onto Elijah's wrist to drink more. When he's fully awake, Elijah helps him up, searching his still confused eyes. "You ok, brother?"

Niklaus swallows, but nods his head.

"Don't you know I'm too powerful to kill?" Dahlia hisses at them, her eyes ablaze.

Elijah attempts to make a move, but she stops him before he even has a chance, sending him crashing onto the wooden benches on the back of the church. The force of the impact knocks the wind off his lungs, his vision darkening completely. Still he attempts to lift himself off the ground, rolling onto his stomach and scrambling to get to his feet.

When he finally recovers somewhat, he sees Niklaus gripping a knife tightly in his hand and then lunging at Dahlia. Right before he plunges the knife into her, however, she simply... Vanishes. Out of thin air. As though she were a ghost. Klaus crashes onto the altar, but recovers fast, rising to his feet in an instant, searching for his knife.

"We all have weaknesses," Dahlia's voice rings through the church. She's now materialized at the back, near the door, clutching the knife in her hands. "You came here united, hoping to exploit mine, and in doing so, you lost the one thing that you could've used against me." She gives the weapon an assessing look. "The weapon you created... Now rendered useless." She throws the knife on a pyre lit by candles. It catches fire as though it were made of straw and then it's gone.

" _NO_!" Freya screams as Mikael holds her back so she won't stalk off towards Dahlia.

Elijah blinks at his brother, a grim, vitriolic look on his face, trying to understand exactly what happened here. Freya said she'd sent Mikael to procure the items she needed in order to destroy Dahlia. Now, suddenly, Niklaus shows up _with_ Mikael, in possession of a certain weapon, walking straight into the witch's trap when they'd been trying to avoid confrontation at all costs until they figured out a way to either vanquish her for good, or keep Eve definitively out of her reach.

Niklaus and Mikael joined forces to go behind Freya's back, steal the ingredients, forge the weapon themselves... And then they failed.

If Elijah wasn’t witnessing it with his very eyes, he would laugh at the sheer absurdity of it.

"Now that we've dismissed with that little trinket, perhaps we can focus on the issue at hand," Dahlia continues, completely unruffled, an impassive expression on her face. "I seek only that which is owed to me, nothing more. Give me the child, and you all may live. Deny me and, well... You've had a taste of my power. I can't imagine you hunger for more. I will start by killing that which you love most." Her eyes settle on Niklaus, glittering with malice. "The mother does not have to suffer for your mistakes."

With that, she is gone.

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"That sounds like a bloody fiasco," Rebekah is saying as she walks out of the ballroom with Elijah.

He was filling her in on everything that happened at the church, while Klaus couldn't really be bothered. He was desperate for a drink - and even more desperate for blood. That crone nearly drained him whole. Two blood bags and he's still not satiated. Might have to step out for a bit of a live snack. Good thing Caroline is not around to berate him - better yet that she is somewhere safe, where magic cannot touch her or Eve.

If Dahlia thinks she can threaten Caroline and walk freely she hasn't done her homework before climbing out of hell.

Still, however motivated by anger he might be, he'd rather keep Caroline and their child away from the compound and, in fact, out of the streets of the French Quarter. At least while they tick off this newest threat on their list. If it depends on him, it won't be long at all.

"Where's Dahlia now?" Rebekah asks.

"She could be anywhere. There wasn't a trace of her left at the church," Elijah says.

Klaus lifts his glass up to his lips, taking a long drag. While he attempts to dull the worst of his dented ego with alcohol, he's also trying hard to ignore the fact that both Freya and Mikael are under his roof right now. It's hard to climb down from the heights of anger with that man in his house. How long does he have to wait before their truce is officially terminated so they can properly return to tearing at each other's throats?

"She's done with us for the night." Klaus can feel Freya's eyes boring holes on his back as she talks, voice dripping with venom. "No doubt she wants us to take some time to wallow in our defeat."

"Defeat?" he retorts, calmly putting down his glass before turning to face his family - well, some of them are, anyway. "I disagree. We saw her face, we took her measure. If that's the best she's got, quite frankly, I'm unimpressed."

"Her aim was not to impress us. She wanted us to reveal our sole weapon and, like fools, we did," Mikael spits at him.

"Am I hearing things, or did Nik just exchange words with our father?" Rebekah mutters to Elijah.

"Rebekah," Mikael grins awfully at her. "I'd know that wicked tongue anywhere. What mischief have you gotten yourself into now? No doubt the bastard's doing."

"Enough," Klaus says evenly. "My patience, like this farce of a reunion, is at an end."

"Agreed. There really is one question here," Elijah offers, stepping forward, ever the conflict solver. "What exactly are we doing now?"

"This was not my plan!" Freya lashes out, her voice escalating as she finally abandons resorting to shallow provocations for admitting the full range of her frustrations. If she intends to live as a Mikaelson, she needs to pick up on a thing or two on the fine art of passive-aggressiveness. She so lacks the subtlety. "You rushed it and made but a single weapon. Of course she took it from you! And now we've lost what advantage we had and used up the very materials we needed to kill her!"

"It's a bit histrionic," Klaus says flippantly. "Your materials are easily found. Let's take stock, shall we? There's an ample supply of your blood. Norwegian soil is hardly scarce. What else... Ah, yes. The ashes of Dahlia's Viking oppressors."

"Only priceless relics acquired with great difficulty at a museum, lost due to your worthless strategies!" Mikael hisses furiously at him.

And that's about the moment when Klaus finally snaps, his temper flaring hot at the sound of his father's vitriolic attack. In a blur, he has Mikael up against the wall, the white oak stake aimed at his heart. The tip breaks into his flesh as Klaus pushes it in. The old man gasps in torturing pain, his body shuddering under Klaus' hands. Freya lets out a desperate howl.

"If I feel even the faintest touch of your magic, Freya, I will end him with a flick of my wrist," he admonishes, looking deeply into Mikael's eyes.

For a thousand years that man populated every single one of Klaus' worst nightmares, real and imaginary ones alike. Those eyes, full of poison and darkness, never had anything but hatred and contempt in them whenever he looked at him, even as a child.

Mikael used to terrify him. The strongest creature on earth, and he would shake at the thought of facing his very own Viking oppressor. That is no longer the case. Now all Klaus feels is... Pain. All the pain he's ever caused him, amplified and rushing through him like an electric discharge, setting Klaus' insides on a fire that consumes him completely.

"You don't seem surprised," he says at Mikael’s lack of reaction at his sudden strike.

"Betrayal is in your blood, boy," Mikael replies with ease and customary disdain.

Klaus’ face contorts with anger. " _No_ ," he grinds out. "I wasn't born like this. Her, you fight for. Lovely Freya... The daughter you barely know. Yet there was a time when you knew me as your _son_. A time before all the disappointments, the revelations of betrayal. There were moments when all you had to do was be my father! And even then you despised me, didn't you?! I want to know why."

Klaus hates the edge of his own voice, how it unravels at the end, how much hurt it carries. He doesn't want to feel this way about the man who shaped all of the darkest, most warped corners of his soul, but it's almost inevitable. For a thousand years he believed that Mikael was incapable of love. The way he treated every one of them, how he despised his own children, even if Klaus was always at the center of all his vitriol. There wasn't a single inch of that man that was capable of affection. And yet, when he looks at Freya... Klaus almost sees himself, the way he looks at his own daughter, the impossible, irrational love he feels for Eve.

_How_ can that man, who's done nothing but terrorize his children, care for someone so truly? And if he can, why wouldn't he? Why didn't he just... love them?

"I don't know," Mikael says above a whisper, with a hint of sadness that pierces through Klaus' heart. "I just did."

Klaus lifts his chin, looking at his maker in every way that counts dead in the eye. "Are those your final words?"

Mikael's eyes wander away from him, and when he meets the object of all his affection, his expression turns… soft. Apologetic. Full of regret. "Freya... I'm so sorry. I love yo-"

Klaus pushes the stake into his heart, stealing away the mercy of uttering these words. He does not deserve them.

Mikael gasps, his lips parting not in fear or in horror, but as though he wants to say something as he lifts a hand, reaching out for Klaus. His bastard son simply steps back and lets him tumble to the ground, desiccating before his body erupts into eternal flames, sending him back to the place he should've never left.

Freya screams behind him, each howl more painful than the last, her voice breaking as she tries to reach for her dear father, but Elijah holds her back.

Klaus turns to her, not at all touched by her despair. He ignores the looks of reproach in Elijah and Rebekah's faces. The two of them are getting so soft for Freya that they will now cry over the man who terrorized them for a millennium.

"Viking ash is indeed rare," Klaus tells her. "But all you really need is a burning Viking corpse."

Freya tries to lash at him as he walks by her, but Elijah restrains her.

It doesn't seem like Klaus will find any warm feelings at his own home this evening, and Freya's pathetic wailing is burning through the last bit of tolerance he still has for her. He has to step out into the night, maybe compel the bartender at Rousseau's to leave the bar open so he will have somewhere quieter and far less ridden with judgment to celebrate murdering his father for the second time. That's a pleasure not many get to experience in a lifetime, he reckons. Let alone two. It ought to be properly observed.

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Elijah says he doesn't know where Klaus stalked off to when he abandoned the scene of his latest murder, as always leaving the consequences of his impulsive actions, in the form of a desperate Freya, for his siblings to deal with. Caroline doesn't even have to think, though. There's only one place Klaus would've gone to after events of such magnitude.

The closest place to get shit-faced drunk.

She was supposed to stay quarantined at St. James' Infirmary with Eve - as Elijah made sure to remind her by quoting Dahlia's threat word by word. Needless to say, she doesn't heed the advice.

Eve is asleep, Jackson is with her and there is a battalion of werewolves surrounding the place. If Dahlia attempts to trespass, it's the last thing she'll do in her life. Her magic will be rendered null and void, making her an easy prey for one particularly testy wolf who's still not over the fact she got inside his head. Her baby will be fine tonight.

The dad, on the other hand...

Caroline sighs heavily as she looks through the stained glass on the door of Rousseau’s and finds Klaus' blurry, lonely figure sitting by the bar.

There's so much in this whole story she wants to yell at him about... Hijacking Freya's spell without ever really figuring out what she was going to do with it. Asking _Mikael_ to tag along with him, the two of them marching into a suicide mission against Dahlia. Not telling _a single person_ about what he intended to do, like they hadn’t been through this before. It goes on and on…

There are about a thousand ways Klaus could've ended up dead tonight and Caroline wouldn't even know he'd been in danger until after the fact. He was reckless and selfish and just plain _stupid_ and Caroline wants to slap him across the face as many times as it takes for him to understand that he can't fucking do that to her.

She won't, though. She will bite her tongue and keep all the chiding and the slapping and the yelling for some other time. Any idiot can see how crushed Klaus is. When Elijah told her he'd asked Mikael why he'd never loved them - never loved _him_ \- the way he obviously cared for Freya... Well, _that_ is something she can relate to. It was one of the last things she ever asked her father, right before he died. She didn't kill him, he was turned into the thing he hated the most - after his own incompetent child - and refused to complete transition. What Bill did to her is not even a millionth of the terror and violence Mikael put Klaus through, but if there's one thing Caroline understands is how much it hurts to be hated by someone you can't help but love.

She pushes the door open, slipping into the cloud of misery hovering inside the bar tonight. It's almost closing time, only the straggler drunkards behind. She doubts Klaus intends to leave any time soon, though. The late-shift bartenders at Rousseau’s _pray_ for Klaus' crappy nights. They make hundreds and hundreds in tips out of keeping the bar open just so he can mope by himself. Caroline doesn't want to take their bread-winner from them, has all the respect in the world for people in the service area, but she really hopes they get some other rich sad bastard to fill their tips jar soon. This one has gotta stop doing that.

Klaus doesn't even look at her as she slips into the stool right beside him. "You shouldn't be here," he mutters dispassionately into his glass.

"Neither should you. But if the mountain won't come to Muhammad..."

He empties his glass with a long gulp, putting it down with an annoyed thud. "Go on, then," he says crossly. "Have your piece. Yell at me for ruining our chance to kill Dahlia. For killing Freya's precious father right before her eyes. Berate me for my heartlessness and inhumanity, Caroline, and be done with it. I've frankly had my share for the evening and you have to go back to the Infirmary."

She tilts her head. "Is that what you think I came here to do? I would be the last person to scold you for killing Mikael. You should know that."

"Then what is it that you want, if not to chastise me?"

"What do I want?" Caroline parrots, stung. "Do you really have to ask? I've come to see how you are, Klaus. I worry about you." Klaus stays quiet, his eyes firmly set on his glass as he turns and turns it with the tips of his fingers. "You've been treating me like I'm against you."

"Well, aren't you? You don't listen to what I say. You have Jackson Kenner following you around wherever you go."

"You _asked_ the wolves to stand guard at the compound and then to follow me to Marcel's jazz club."

"I never asked for him to be your personal bodyguard."

"You didn't have to. We're bonded by an ancient mystical ritual, in case that's slipped your mind."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're having a blast."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demands, slamming her hand down in front of him to force him to meet her gaze, leveling him with a hard look. "My daughter's being hunted by your crazy aunt because of some stupid bargain your mother made a thousand years ago. I can't even go out on the street anymore, I can't stay at my own home, I've been transferred to a freaking _jazz club_ like I'm some valuable inmate and my -" Caroline snaps her mouth shut, eyes flickering away from Klaus, to the glassed wall behind the bar, then back. " _You_ won't even talk to me. We're supposed to be a team, Klaus. We can't be a team if you don't trust me."

"And how am I supposed to trust you? Hmm? When you sell yourself out to crazed, bloodthirsty witches while my brother's latest fling runs off with our child."

"It was a matter of logic," Caroline says in a clipped, annoyed tone. How many times is she going to have this fight? "Gia wouldn't have lasted a second against them, so our daughter's best chance to be taken as far away as possible from Eva Sinclair's grasp was if I stayed behind to buy them as much time as I could. I didn't mean to die _or_ get captured."

"But you did," Klaus snarls. "And you could've died. _Again_. I can't trust you if you're going to be throwing yourself to your death without a second thought. That is precisely what I'm trying to prevent."

"You need to realize that I _will_ die to save our daughter - and don't start barking at me, you would do the same thing. But I don't _want_ to die. _That_ is the key detail that you seem to keep missing. I will do everything in my power to stay alive and watch my daughter grow up. But you treating me like that fact means I'm not on your side, that no one is, is not helping anyone, least of all you. It's you against the world."

"Yes, well, " he pouts grumpily, facing away from her. "It's what it feels like, more often than not."

"You're wrong, Klaus. This is the paranoia talking. You push everyone away, you isolate yourself, go on crazy quests without sending even a little warning to anyone about what you're doing, like we're all just hindering you. You wanna talk about suicidal? You took the white oak stake with you while you went on a witch hunt with _Mikael_. He could've turned on you at any moment, just like you turned on him. And then what?"

"And then the bastard would've been done for and everyone would've been better off for it!" he roars back at her.

"Oh, shut up!" Caroline demands sharply, bitter hurt flaring into pure anger. "Don't give me that crap. You can use that poor bastard bullshit on your siblings, but not on me. That's selfish and borderline disrespectful to the people who care about you." Klaus' jaw clenches, only the faintest trace of guilt flashing through his darkened eyes. When he's in that kind of destructive mood, nothing removes him of these ideas. So she plows on. "This might come as a surprise to you, but loving someone and being loved in return is not just rainbows and unicorns and mind-blowing orgasms. Newsflash: it comes with a price. You're not alone anymore, Klaus. You have a daughter and you have me. You can't make me fall in love with you and then pick and choose when and where you're gonna want me. I'm not here just for _some_ of the time, just when it's convenient. If all you want to do is fuck me, and then for me to shut up and never weigh in on anything you do, then this isn't love, and you should make that clear right now, otherwise we're just wasting our time."

He moves so quickly Caroline doesn't even see it. Suddenly, Klaus is upon her, his hands on her face, a touch that is filled with need but still gentle. "I love you so much that the mere thought of having anything happen to you again _kills me_ , Caroline. It’s a torment far worse than having a white oak splinter brushing against my heart. All I want is to finish Dahlia so that we can be together with our daughter, safe," he speaks lowly, his voice shaking with the fierceness of his intent. "All I do is for her and for you. I cannot _be_ without you, Caroline, and I will not lose you again. Do you not understand? Are you not listening when I keep telling you this? I don't care what I have to do, who I have to kill; they are not taking you away from me again."

Caroline feels as some of the fight bleeds out of her, leaving her empty and tired. She touches her forehead to his, closing her eyes and taking slow, measured breaths. Her nostrils fill with the smell of alcohol, blood and sadness. And Klaus. Underneath all that, she captures his scent, like he taught her how to do all those months ago. She learned his scent. This fragrance that isn't like anything, but it's so very him. It soothes her, even in the stormiest of weathers, in a sea of misery and uncertainty. It touches her heart, thrums through her veins and it calms her down like a drug.

She puts a hand under his chin and kisses him. Klaus kisses her back not with his customary hunger, and not like he's angry either. It's soft and longing and deliberate. And with so much need. For a second, everything slows down to a stop. There's no threat, no Dahlia, no Mikael; just them and the way they feel. When they break apart, however, reality quickly catches up.

Klaus hesitates to let her pull away, keeping a hand on her neck, his raspberry lips parted as though in a silent plea. He lets his shield down, all the bitterness and aggression dissipating, and suddenly all Caroline can see is the heartbreak. She combs a hand gently through his hair, then slides down the side of his face and neck.

"We all want the same thing," she says. "But I don't want to lose in the process, Klaus. And right now I feel like I'm already halfway there."

She pulls him into a quick embrace, kissing him on the cheek before she stands up. "I have to go back to Eve. Don't drink the whole bar. Go home. Sleep."

Caroline smiles wanly at him and then forces herself to look away, or else she'll never be able to walk out into the night and back to St. James' Infirmary. Away from him.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning are from [5AM by Amber Run](https://open.spotify.com/track/4B4kunXhV2ZKnYcvDgAFoE?si=RjQw_zqYQoasJqr-zo5b1g), the song I have in mind for the final scene between Klaus and Caroline at the bar. Adds great mood, if you'd like something to listen to while reading. :)
> 
> You might have noticed I have many songs for many scenes. In fact, I have an entire playlist made for this story with songs for specific scenes. Many are from future chapters, but anyone would be interested I could share the playlist. So let me know. Don't know if anybody is into that kind of thing, so.
> 
> So this chapter is a bit of a bridge chapter and fillery in terms of KC, I guess, but it has many important developments plot-wise, so I couldn't just skip it altogether. I'd still very much like to hear your thoughts! Your comments from last chapter really motivated to try and work a bit faster on this update (not by much 😅 but I also have a paying job that needs attention every now and then, so).
> 
> For those of you who were concerned about Caroline's position regarding Klaus when the whole showdown begins, I think this chapter started to give some clarity. :) It was also relevant to explain the mind-frame of many of the characters for the coming events - Klaus', Freya's and Elijah's, in particular. Next chapter is when shit finally hits the fan.
> 
> I would obviously be very grateful to have your thoughts on this chapter as well! 😂😂 Not to be blunt, but already being, it goes a really long way towards getting me motivated to work quicker on updates. So if you'd like another one sooner, let me know, share your feelings, I love to talk (clearly)! lol
> 
> And thanks so much for reading! :)


	19. S02E19 When the Levee Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so, so much to all your kind comments! ❤ I never get tired of saying how much you guys keep me motivated to work on this fic, but it is absolutely true. It's fantastic to know people are still reading this story after such a long time (and so many ridiculously long chapters). This has been the high point of my last seven months in almost complete quarantine, so, really, thank you. 🤗
> 
> Now, I need to make some **warnings** for this chapter. Beware of character death and extreme angst. I've been warning you folks that this moment would come. lol Here it is. Please, read the notes at the bottom once you're done!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it and, if you do, drop me a note to let me know! It makes my day and gets me all hyped to work on the next update.

* * *

Any ill-advised newcomer who were to walk into their dining room this morning would never be able to guess the mournful, bleak mood that settled upon their household - and, indeed, upon every member of the family - just the night before. The dark clouds announcing a lasting storm have dissipated with dawn. At least for Niklaus.

He cut a completely different figure the night before. Stayed out late drowning his sorrows in bourbon, his favorite medicine for most afflictions. Stumbled back into the compound like a shadow, haunted and desolate. Didn't do more than slide a glare Elijah's way before retreating into his bedroom, likely seeking to drink himself into stupor in a futile attempt to rewrite the previous day's events under a more auspicious light.

Niklaus is the architect of his own misery more often than not, but last night, in spite of his pathetic behavior, he had cause for disgruntlement. His boundless hubris won't allow him to admit it, but Elijah knows his brother must be deeply concerned. He may be short-fused and impulsive, but he is not an idiot; Dahlia needn't so much as touch him in order to leave him out cold. That was but a taste of her power, and it became blatantly obvious that they're not well-equipped to deal with the threat they face. He spoke in big words, but he was intimidated. He should be, if he's any reason left in him.

And yet, this morning, while everyone expected him to be insufferable and racked by preoccupation...

"Is something of the matter, brother?" Niklaus asks pleasantly from his seat at the head of the table, a lazy grin on his face while he sips from his flute. "Can I fix you a drink, perhaps?"

Elijah regards the plentiful breakfast table set before him, and then he considers his brother. Niklaus looks as temperate and appeased as he could ever get. Fresh, good-humored and blissfully unconcerned. As if last night was a hallucination, a minor blunder, something he brushed off like a crumb and simply moved past. 

The creases on Elijah's forehead deepen into a frown. He can't decide whether to be relieved that Niklaus hasn't slipped straight into one of his destructive moods, or all the more worried precisely because of that. He's in complete dissonance with the level of seriousness the moment demands and Elijah is afraid Niklaus might have finally lost it.

"Strangely enough, Niklaus, I'm not in a mimosa mood,” he replies.

"I am," Caroline says sunnily as she joins them. "Although, if we're going to be day-drinking - and I can't stress this enough - I prefer margaritas."

Elijah's eyes narrow slightly.

Niklaus' smile all but melts off his face, his eyes flashing sharply. "What are you doing here?"

"I wasn't being expected?" she asks with feigned innocence. "You should really check your cell phone, Klaus. It keeps missing me when you send out your invitations for family brunches. Good thing I still have _friends_." The toothy grin on her face is defiant as she puts an arm around Elijah's shoulder and pulls him down for a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, Elijah," she greets him gently.

Elijah smiles affectionately at her. There's nothing bright about this morning, but it is always pleasant to have her uplifting presence around the house. Caroline has become the beating heart of their home. When she's not here, all they have is Niklaus' fluctuating moods.

He was the one to inform her of this most unusual gathering, as he was the one to fill her in on last night's events. He didn't mean for her to step out of her circle of protection in Algiers, of course, merely wanted to know if she'd seen Niklaus last night (she did) and if anything out of the ordinary had happened to justify his water-to-wine transformation (not particularly). He can’t say he’s dissatisfied with her decision to come, though. Niklaus is in desperate need of a reality check of the kind only Caroline can give him.

"You're supposed to be in Algiers, taking care of our daughter. As a matter of fact, who's watching her?" Klaus asks moodily.

"Do you know who _isn't_? You. So don't tell me that I have to be a stay-at-jazz club mom, especially not with your crazy relatives after her. I want in on the conversations regarding my daughter's future. And save the whining, Klaus, she's in good hands. Jackson and about a hundred other werewolves are with her.”

Caroline walks around the table to pour herself a flute of mimosa and, as she returns to take a seat, she stops beside Niklaus' suddenly grumpy figure and places a kiss on his temple. "Good morning to you, too, by the way."

The kiss seems to disarm him completely. Niklaus sags back against his seat, the hard line of his mouth softening as he looks back at her, whatever complaint he was going to offer dying in a resigned sigh. Elijah has long ceased to underestimate Caroline's influence over his wild, headstrong brother.

"Well, since Caroline is here..." Elijah starts. "Let's discuss strategy, shall we? Just wondering if you actually have one, brother. We can begin with Mikael's ashes. Given that they are the main ingredient in our weapon against Dahlia, would you care to tell me where they disappeared to?"

Klaus props his elbows on the table. "Elijah, I have compelled the city's finest pastry chefs for your personal edification, and yet you ignore my efforts in favor of needless concerns."

Caroline slaps his elbow gently out of the way to reach a plate with beignets covered in a mountain of powdered sugar just as Rebekah stumbles in, dragging her feet and looking like a sore mess.

"Can we stop talking so loudly?" she grumbles. "Oh, give me that." Rebekah rushes to the coffee pot, pouring herself a large cup.

"New witch body not up to last night's bender?" Niklaus teases.

"So? I had a few." Rebekah shrugs, tumbling down onto a seat. "It's not every day you lose your father at the hands of your brother... Again." She gives Niklaus a look that would be sharp were she not so hungover, drinking her coffee as though it were a magical elixir.

"Whoever said opportunity only knocks once, eh?" Klaus cracks up laughing, but no one joins him. "Oh, come on! The three of us fled Mikael's tyranny together for centuries. I would've thought the mood this morning might be a bit more jubilant."

"Under normal circumstances, the annihilation of our father would be rather commendable, Niklaus. Unfortunately, we have a greater threat to contend with."

"You know, for someone who's been invited to a celebratory breakfast, you're proving quite the buzz kill."

"Well, Niklaus, if indeed anything has killed _the buzz_ , as you say," Elijah retorts tersely, air quotes and all. "Perhaps it's because murdering our father alienated the one person who truly knows how to defeat Dahlia."

"If Freya wants to be a part of this family, she should be willing to accept us, warts and all."

"Elijah's right," Rebekah weighs in. "Freya loved Mikael, and you've likely ruined everything. We needed her."

"Mikael was a vermin," Caroline remarks. Three sets of eyes cut to her; two surprised at her reaction, one decidedly pleased. "I'm sorry, I know he was your father, but he was. I won't forget that he tried to kill me while I was still pregnant just because he wanted to upset Klaus. Good riddance to him."

Klaus' smile grows proud. "Thank you, sweetheart. I'm glad you could join us."

"But," Caroline continues, arching a pointed eyebrow at him. "If you're going to kill your all-powerful sister's favorite parent right before her eyes, I sure hope you have a good plan."

"Pity," Klaus says around a long-suffering exhale. "What shall I do?"

"Whatever you please, apparently," Elijah bites out.

Niklaus slams his hand down hard on the table, sending the glasses rattling, his mood taking another shift. "Do not mistake my high spirits for lack of clarity. I know full well the threat we face and I intend to deal with it personally."

"That says nothing to me unless you have something concrete to share with the rest of us," Elijah replies coolly.

Klaus opens his mouth, no doubt to shoot another waspish retort, but then he stops, straightening on his seat. "Someone's here."

All of them stand up at once, rushing to the courtyard, where Josephine Larue is waiting for them.

"Josephine," Elijah says, taken with surprise that the old witch would not only leave her mansion, but would do so without the company of the bodyguards who shadow her every move. "What brings you to the French Quarter?"

"Forgive me for coming so early, Elijah, but I've come bearing a message from your aunt Dahlia. She is owed a debt and she means to be paid." The witch's voice is just as calm as ever, but something about the extra frosty detachment, when she just yesterday helped them to fortify St. James' Infirmary, rubs Elijah wrongly.

"She can writhe in hell first," Niklaus bites out.

"For merely taking what your mother promised her? If you must harbor hatred, isn't it better spent on the one who trapped your child away a thousand years ago? Blame Esther, if you must, but I seek only to fulfill a bargain, one that consequently resulted in your very existence. Perhaps you should be thanking me."

Elijah's muscles tighten, attention narrowing as he steps forward. That's not Josephine. 

"Dahlia."

"My child..." she says, steely blue eyes on him. "I prefer aunt Dahlia."

"You will not be laying your dirty hands on my daughter!" Caroline hollers, attempting to lunge at her, but Niklaus holds her back, standing in front of her like a shield. His brother's eyes flash gold, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You dare enter my home?" he hisses.

"I only came for what is mine."

"She is not yours!" Caroline yells again.

Josephine-Dahlia remains perfectly unfazed. "The time has come to add the child's power to my own, though I do not detect her here. I see you've used a spell to cloak her. No matter. Such spells will yield, as will you. Say your farewells. You have until nightfall tomorrow, and then the child shall be mine. No reason why we can't be civilized about this."

Elijah notices a trail of blood running from underneath her neck scarf, but before he can investigate it, Niklaus, in a mad rush of anger, rips her head off with his bare hands.

He doesn't spare a glance at Elijah before stalking back inside the house, a fierce purpose in his stride.

If he wasn't worried before... Now he most definitely is.

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"Good news, Dahlia still doesn't know that we're here. Bad news, she's given us until tomorrow night and then she's coming for Eve," Caroline tells Jackson, affecting a lightness she does not feel in the least. It takes some effort to keep her hands from shaking as she puts her daughter back in her travel crib. Eve has spent more time sleeping in those out of necessity the past few months than she has in her own room. This makes Caroline so angry.

Once she snapped out of the shock of seeing Josephine Larue's head rolling off her neck in the middle of the courtyard, she ran straight back to St. James' Infirmary. She wonders if the anti-magic barrier in the club will hold against Dahlia's possessions, if the spell will break as soon as the person crosses the entrance. If not, this pretty much means she could send anybody in to do her bidding. Even one of the wolves. To stay on the safe side, she won't be taking her eyes off her baby. For once, Klaus is right; she has to stay put.

Objectively, she'd feel a hell of a lot better if the indestructible father was also here to reinforce the defense, but she understands, in an abstract manner, that they can’t all be tucked inside, waiting for Dahlia’s next moves. Someone has to be out there, trying to figure out how to take down that witch for good.

"I still say we need to get the hell out of here," Jackson suggests.

"Think, Jack. Freya said that Dahlia is drawn to Eve's magic. It doesn't matter how far we get, she'll still be able to track us. At least this place is spelled. No one can do magic here, not Eve or Dahlia."

"We've seen bigger magic than this break. We should run while we can."

"It's a risk either way. Besides, I already told you, I wouldn't go anywhere without telling Klaus.” Caroline's shoulders drop helplessly as she looks down at her baby, mindlessly playing with her toys, with a sharp twinge in her chest. “She's just so little... She didn't ask for any of this."

All of a sudden, an idea flares up in her mind. "If she didn't ask for any of this... Maybe she won't miss it if it's gone," she muses, looking back at Jackson with big eyes, a flicker of hope surging from the depths of her helpless despair. "Jack, that's it. Why didn't I think of this sooner? _Ugh_! Stupid vampire head!"

"What?"

"Dahlia is attracted to her magic, which she's always using because she's a baby, and babies can't control their own powers. She doesn't know how to keep the magic from bleeding out of her."

"And how do we stop her from using magic?"

"We need to block it. Like jamming a signal. But it would be hard to get it done... Especially now. I can't leave her here to go see someone about this, and I can't take her with me."

"Let me do it," Aiden says, approaching them. Caroline looks to Jackson, who seems hesitant. "Look, whatever it is, I'll do it," Aiden insists. "Just tell me what you need and I'll go sort it out."

Caroline takes Jackson's silence for a reluctant consent, and so she smiles at Aiden. She would've never considered asking him directly, but he might actually be the perfect person for the job. The only one of them who might have the required persuasion power to get it done, in fact.

"I'll give you a list," she says. "And then you have to go talk to Davina."

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Not in a thousand years Rebekah thought she'd ever feel heartbroken over the loss of Mikael. But the sight of Freya's lonesome figure trying to put together a small shrine to their father at the cemetery saddens her deeply.

It's not really about Mikael, although an insane part of her wishes Niklaus hadn’t done what he did. It's not for their father that Rebekah mourns. It's for Freya. The man she knew was a complete stranger to the rest of them. Perhaps, given time, Mikael would reveal himself to be just as terrible to her as he ended up being to every last one of his children. Rebekah has a hard time believing that man ever knew anything but cruelty. But the way he looked at Freya... The sadness in his eyes as he said goodbye. How he was ready to profess his love for her, right before Nik drove the stake in... Rebekah's never seen even a flicker of sentiment like that in her father. Not towards anyone.

It makes her wonder if the loss of Freya was the thing that broke him, if the grief ate away at him until there was nothing left but a hard and empty shell, made brutal by a bitterness that only grew with time. Having more children only reminded him of the one he’d lost. Perhaps if Esther had fought Dahlia then, instead of letting her take their daughter, Mikael might've been a better father to all of them. Perhaps everything could've been different.

Rebekah is not sorry that Mikael is dead, but she is sorry that Freya lost her only chance of knowing a parent who might've loved her. She's even more sorry that she was made to watch as Nik executed him. No one should have to go through something like that.

Not that Klaus would ever care, though... His history with Mikael is far too long and uglier still. Rebekah chided him only because, given the risk his daughter is under at the moment, he should've thought better before acting on impulse. Nik thinks himself the smartest man alive, and he might very well be, if only he didn't let his awful temper get the best of him time and time again.

Now it's up to her and Elijah to work on damage control and try to coax Freya back to their side.

"Freya," she says softly as she approaches her. "I'm so sorry."

"About what?" Freya asks bitterly. "Certainly not our father. I alone mourn him, as I alone loved him. And now because of Klaus..." Her voice breaks off, thick with emotion. "My father is taken from me once more."

"I never knew the man you're mourning. He showed more tenderness to you yesterday than we have ever seen. All I can recall is his terrible temper, his awful cruelty, especially to Nik."

Freya whips around to face her with an angry spark in her tear-rimmed eyes. "That is not an excuse." 

"Isn't it? You ran from Dahlia because she was cruel to you for a thousand years. Why do you think Nik hates our father so much? The whole time you've been with Dahlia, we've been running from Mikael. He wanted us dead, Freya. And he would always start with Nik, for whom he never had any love, since he was just a boy. He beat him, threatened him, humiliated him, made him feel ashamed and weak when he simply had a sweet disposition. It was his abuse what made Nik harden himself to the point of indifference. And just last year, while Caroline was pregnant, our father returned from the dead, while the Other Side collapsed. With but a single day to enjoy in touch with this earth, he chose to try and murder her and the child just to punish Nik for being _happy_." A muscle twitches on Freya's jaw, her eyes flickering away. "He failed, obviously, Caroline fought back, but our brother doesn't forget, and he definitely doesn't forgive."

Freya stands to her feet, still visibly angry, so Rebekah plows on. "I know Klaus can be infuriating, treacherous even, but there is no one better to have by your side against someone like Dahlia. He wants Eve safe just as much as you want your freedom. We need to work together," she pleads.

Freya shakes her head. "How can you defend him? I was abducted by Dahlia, spent years under her control, and still he acts as if I am the enemy. I have given you all every reason to trust me, and yet he alone rejects me."

"Freya -"

"In all honesty, I cannot understand why you continue to stand by him. You and Elijah have a choice. We're no longer on the same side. From now on, it's either Klaus or me."

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Niklaus’ penchant for testing the limits of everyone's patience at the most inconvenient of times is absolutely unparalleled.

The whole world crumbling down around them and he calmly retires into his studio to paint, like there's nothing more important requiring his immediate attention. Although _calmly_ wouldn't quite be the word. He looks like a maniac Jackson Pollock as he attacks the canvas before him with riveted moves of his brush.

"I see you've been inspired by beheading Josephine Larue," Elijah remarks. His brother doesn't even acknowledge his presence. "How can you be painting while your child is all the way across the river with her mother?"

"They're safer there."

"And shouldn't you be with them?"

"Dahlia will no doubt be watching my every move."

"Are you hoping she'll notice your talents, then?" Klaus casts him a glare from over his shoulder, then goes back to his art. "You do understand there is no time. Niklaus, if Mikael's ashes are the key to ending Dahlia, then surely you must see the need to share their whereabouts."

"I see nothing of the sort."

Elijah scrubs a hand across his face, sucking in a steadying breath in order to will away the desire to punch his brother's head into a wall to see if brutish violence might drive some sense into him, at last. Instead, he adopts a different strategy, determined to keep a level head. Somebody has to. If every one of them awakes their inner Niklaus right now, they'll be lost.

"It is no secret that you often strategize while you paint," he observes. "I assume you have a plan."

"You ask that I share my strategies so you can run straight to Freya and bring her into the circle of trust? I think not."

"This is too dangerous for you, brother," Elijah pleads. "You cannot do this alone."

Klaus whips around at him, his blue eyes ablaze. "And whom should I trust to protect Eve? Our new found sister with duplicitous motives of her own? Or how about Jackson, the self-declared king of the wolves who walks behind Caroline like a shadow?"

"Trust her. Trust _me_."

"I would love to, Elijah," he says, putting down his brush and wiping his hand clean. "Now more than ever I need Caroline and my brother by my side. But you've not been the same since mother got inside your head. Your judgement is not what it was. _You_ are not what you were. The Elijah I know would never have clung so desperately to the word of a complete stranger, telling him what he wants to hear."

Niklaus' words cut straight into Elijah's flesh. Each sentence is like a slap to his face. His brother knows how guilty and broken he's been made to feel over the memories his mother unleashed inside his head, how hard he's been fighting to rein in all of the barbed edges of these depths of darkness not even he knew existed. And yet he doesn't even flinch before accusing him of being incapacitated by his most profound shame.

Caroline tried to alert him of how quickly Niklaus was spiraling out of control a very long time ago, but he was far too lost in his own turmoil to pay true attention. He sees now that she was right. When his brother gets into the worst of his paranoia, it's when his callous disregard for the feelings and opinions of others screams loudest. He becomes completely insensitive - and, precisely because of that, all the more dangerous.

Elijah clenches his jaw, straining to keep the worst of his feelings from showing on his face.

"Freya is our blood, Niklaus," he says gravely. "She also has every reason to want Dahlia's demise, just as you had to want father's death. We have no cause to distrust her."

"Which is a far cry from being trustworthy. She vanquished Finn, yes, but only after she herself resurrected him, and though lauded for saving Rebekah and Caroline from Eva Sinclair, how do we know she didn't have a hand in waking that demon in the first place? Vincent was equally strong and never woke while our brother occupied his body."

"Niklaus, if we cannot trust one another, we can't work together."

Klaus' eyes darken. "No. We cannot."

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It's scary how fast children grow.

Caroline remembers just how small Eve was when she was born, this tiny little bundle of light in the darkest night of her life. Six months later and she was so big Caroline could barely believe it was her daughter. If it wasn't for her eyes, the exact shape and color as Klaus', she would think Rebekah had lost her baby and kidnapped herself a new one.

For Caroline, the second Klaus took Eve away, it was like time stopped moving. She felt stuck. It was impossible to believe that, while she grappled and fumbled, merely trying to survive, her daughter had grown into this big, beautiful baby girl who smiled and laughed and babbled away for hours in her own language.

Fast-forward to two months later, and she's already trying to _walk_. Eve will hold on to Caroline and pull herself up on her own. Every time she does it, Caroline beams as though it was the first, her chest overflowing with an impossible warmth, bursting with pride. It won't be long before Eve is taking her first few stumbly steps. Next thing she knows, her daughter will be going away to college.

It goes by too fast. Gives the passage of time a whole new perspective, especially to a vampire. In a way, Caroline really is stuck. Eve growing up is the only thing that bursts through the stillness of eternity.

As she's marveling at her daughter's perseverance in trying to stand on her own, tiny hands fisted around Caroline's jacket for support, she senses a weird breeze blowing into the club, bringing with it a strong sweet fragrance. On instinct, Caroline's hands still around Eve as her eyes roam across the place with lightning precision, until she finds the source of the scent.

Ivy plants, entering through windows and the door, climbing up the walls and spreading quickly, much faster than it should be possible. Soon enough it's taken over the entire wall where the front entrance is. And then flowers start to bloom, these huge, beautiful flowers in such a deep red they're almost black.

Caroline's heart lurches in her chest.

_Black dahlias_.

Alarm bells roar loudly in her head, and she picks Eve up, holding her close, everything inside of her tightening in dread.

"She knows we're here," Caroline mutters, her mouth suddenly dry.

In a blink, all of her primal instincts kick in. She puts Eve down in her crib and takes out her phone, dialing Klaus and then Elijah, but her calls won't go through. Grunting in frustration, she tries the club’s ancient landline, which was working fine just this morning, but it's been disconnected.

Caroline curses loudly, despair rising to her throat. "We need to get help," she barks at the wolf who had stayed behind to guard the club. The rest of the men were stationed outside. "Go out the back, try not to attract attention. Go!"

She walks back to Eve, pacing around her crib, her eyes darting from the door to her baby. _Think, think, think._ Dahlia said she wouldn't be coming for Eve before this evening, and the spell protecting the club hasn't worn out yet. At least, it shouldn't have. But it is definitely getting weaker, and a lot faster than Caroline expected. _That_ is why she possessed Josephine; without her magic to keep the enchantment going, the protection barrier would slowly die.

She hears a low whistle, the sound traveling into the bar with the wind. It's that same eerie, sad tune the musician was playing for her and Jackson the other day. It makes all the hair on her body bristle, cold pooling at the base of her spine.

She picks Eve up again, rocking her daughter gently as she stares, transfixed, at the door, waiting.

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Elijah doesn't need a locator spell to find Freya. The bell tower at St. Louis' cathedral seems to have become her lair. He can understand why she would appreciate the spot; the view of the French Quarter from there is quite magnificent.

New Orleans is now her place. The land from where she draws strength and power, likely where her spirit will be put to rest when she's gone - if she ever dies, that is. Freya didn't have a home before. Because of Dahlia, her magic wasn't rooted to any one place, she said. She was a part of nothing, felt connected to nothing except for the oppressor she so desperately tried to escape. That is the worst thing for a witch, to be cut out, drifting. By keeping Freya alienated from the whole world around her, Dahlia was ensuring that her pet would always go back to her, all she had to do was give one sharp pull on her leash. What else would Freya do? What choice did she have? Her aunt was the only home Freya ever knew.

Elijah knows the feeling intimately. It's what's kept his family together over centuries, even during the most trying of times, through Niklaus' worst maniacal frenzies and violent conflicts of interest between the three - sometimes four, rarely ever five - of them. Niklaus, Rebekah, Kol, even Finn, in his coffin - they were home. Elijah might have steered away on occasion, but he always, always went back. Just like Freya to Dahlia.

Eventually, however, his sister grew the courage to break free from the fear that bound her, to try to stand up to face her demon, only to be chased out by the very family she hoped would welcome her, give her a new place to call home, make her feel protected.

Elijah feels sorry for poor Freya. Not just for all that she was made to endure over the last ten centuries, but because she spent all that time fantasizing about something that doesn’t really exist. She never had any idea what being a Mikaelson means. It breaks Elijah’s heart to reveal the harsh truth to her. She was better off with her idealized version of a family than she’ll ever be with the real thing.

Much like Rebekah, Elijah is not sorry Mikael is dead. But he is sorry his sister had to witness such brutality. He is even more sorry he was the one to hold her back, keep her from saving her beloved father. In his final moments, Mikael became a complete stranger to him. A man filled with remorse, fighting to protect something he loved, rather than destroy that which he abhorred. He never knew that man.

While their heartless father welcomed Freya with open arms, her siblings gazed at her with nothing but suspicion - in Niklaus' case, with his fangs bared. No wonder she is so angry. Why would she ever feel any sympathy for the suffering and terror Mikael put Niklaus through over the years when he himself has been so terrible to Freya? In her eyes, it seems as though it was well deserved.

He thought maybe Rebekah could reason with her, make her see that Klaus wasn't being all that cold-hearted when he murdered Mikael - it wasn't detachment what made him drive that stake through their father's heart, quite the opposite; it was the excess of feeling. Too strong, deep-rooted and rotten with resentment and hurt. Despite their differences, they all want the same thing: to get rid of Dahlia, once and for all. Keep Eve safe, free Freya, maybe go back to a semblance of normalcy and then, who knows... Maybe they'll end up seeing eye to eye, after all. But for that, they have to work together.

Rebekah failed. Freya was having none of it, way too consumed by grief to care about their plight. So now it's Elijah's turn. He hates to do it now, so soon after Mikael's death. Ordinarily, he'd allow her some space. Unfortunately, however, they cannot afford the time to mourn the dead.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing you," Freya speaks evenly, not bothering to turn from where she's hunched over a table, surrounded by candles, obviously working on something.

"I understand you built a marker for father," Elijah says gently. "I wish to contribute this."

He walks over to his sister, depositing a hunting knife on the table, right beside her hand. Her face crumples before it smooths into surprise, recognition creeping into her expression as she sees the markings on the hilt. It's an old one, this.

"How did you -"

"Niklaus stole it from Mikael long ago. He would use it to carve these tiny, little wooden figurines for Rebekah, Kol and myself. Whenever Mikael saw any of them, he'd destroy it, give Niklaus a beating... Nearly killed him when he found out he'd been using his hunting knife to carve them." Freya keeps her eyes firmly on the knife, but Elijah notices the line forming between her eyebrows, the twist of her lips. "Like your own, his was not a happy childhood. Art was something of a sanctuary for him, and remains so to this day."

“Do you tell me this so I might sympathize with him, as you do incessantly?"

"What else do you expect me to do? He's my brother, Freya.”

"And I'm certain your life has been made all the more miserable for it. The same way he denies me as his sister, he's denied you and our siblings the right to happiness for over a thousand years. Unlike you, I have made no vows for him to twist and bend to his own selfish will. I've fought too long and hard to get here only to allow Niklaus to rob me of my only chance at freedom," she slams, bitter anger painting her voice red. "I assume Rebekah gave you my ultimatum."

"I don't accept ultimatums. Nor will I make a choice between you and Niklaus."

"I will not trust my freedom to an alliance with someone as unstable and untrustworthy as him, which means you will fight Dahlia alone and you will lose. She will take everything you love from you, including Caroline and your niece."

Elijah gets a stab in his chest, colored by anger, but his face remains perfectly neutral. "You came to us tired of running, desperate to be free and searching for the kind of strength that can only come from family. We may not be a very welcoming or open bunch, but you do not know how ruthless we are when fighting for those few we truly care for. Niklaus and I will defeat Dahlia, and I would prefer you to be by our side."

"You would ask me to stay and watch as we all become Dahlia's chattel."

"Stay, and we defeat Dahlia together. Or you may leave and consign yourself to a life of solitude. But heed my words, sister: even free, without family, this world is far too harsh and lonely a place for creatures like us. Is there really any choice?"

Freya regards him with a steely gaze, unmovable. Even though she's the eldest, she looks much younger than him or Niklaus. Maybe about Rebekah's age. But the darkness in her eyes is as ancient as Elijah's own. She's not afraid - to die, to be defeated, to be alone. That has been life as she knows it. It's hard to bargain with someone with nothing to lose.

"Swear to me that you will not allow Klaus to be our undoing," she says. "And then we may talk."

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Caroline makes a soft _shushing_ sound as she paces around with Eve, the baby fussing all teary-eyed in her arms, burying her nose in her mother's chest. It's almost time to feed her and put her down for a nap, but Caroline can't really prepare her bottle right now. Can't even put her down.

She has her unblinking eyes trained on the front door of the club. There isn't a single sound outside, and the wolf who was meant to alert the others and get help hasn't returned. Doesn't take a genius to realize what's happened. But so far, Dahlia hasn't shown her face. What is she waiting for? Is this just to make sure Caroline won't try to run? That she'll be trapped inside the Infirmary until the protection spell breaks? Or is she just trying to scare her?

Alone and with no way to get in touch with Klaus or Elijah, Caroline feels the hard bite of panic threatening to take over. She'll go down fighting to her last breath, but from what she's heard so far, that fight will probably not last very long.

It's a long while before Caroline hears footsteps calmly approaching. She freezes and her heart jumps into her throat when a woman finally appears by the door. Long dark hair, eyes as black as the night, wearing a long brown overcoat.

"Ah!" the woman gasps, lips parting in fake admiration as she puts a hand above her chest. "What a beauty..." Dahlia's smile is not soft or amicable; it does something awful to her face, makes her seem more menacing than before. "Hello, my child. I -" she cuts herself off as she tries to enter the club and realizes there's a salt line on the floor. If she crosses that line, Caroline will tear her throat open in a second. Dahlia tilts her head. "I was hoping for a more intimate chat, though I sense by entering you would have me at a considerable disadvantage."

"Why don't you come in? I'd love to show you some vampire hospitality," she grits out, trying to keep the panic off her voice.

"I only wanted to see the little one who's been promised to me. Won't be long now. Surely you've noticed that the spell protecting you is growing weaker," she motions her hands towards the plants growing like weeds, taking over the walls.

Caroline simply ignores it, pushing down her fear. "If you dare lay a finger on her, I swear I will make you suffer in ways even your evil mind can't even imagine."

Dahlia laughs. "Caroline, is it? I've been dying to meet you. All the things I've heard... I have no quarrel with you, child. Esther made this bargain long ago. It is most unfortunate that you have been dragged into this family's long-lasting complications, but you knew what you were signing up for by getting involved with Niklaus. From what I gather, he’s by far the most problematic of my nephews. Quite a taste, you have."

"You talk like you don't have a choice. You can just walk away from your _bargain_ , understand that something signed a thousand years ago by people who are long dead should not be applied to my daughter. This is your doing."

"When I give my word, I keep it. And I expect others to do the same. Esther offered me something in return for my help and deliberately tried to deny me the right to fulfill that bargain when she turned her children into vampires. If she hadn't, you wouldn't be in this situation now, but she was obviously not counting on this beautiful loophole. So you see, that child is rightfully mine. The only question is... Would you deny me, knowing that it would mean your death?"

"You are insane if you think I'm letting you take my daughter," Caroline barks at her, shaking with fury. Her desire for blood has never been greater than right this second. She wants to gauge that woman's eyes out, bleed her dry and then cut off her head, just to be on the safe side.

Dahlia sighs warily. "You're frightened for... _your_ daughter," she speaks around an eye roll. "I can assure you that anything Freya may have told you about our life together - well, she always had a flair for the dramatic. Then, of course, most of my troubles with Freya stemmed from the fact that I came for her so late in life. She had such a strong memory of the family that I took her from. But Eve is still young. She won't cling to the memory of you or cry for you in her sleep. You can take comfort in the fact that, for her... It will be as if you never existed."

Caroline feels hell fire rising inside of her, her blood stirring to a boil. Her fangs have dropped, ready for the kill. "Come closer," she grinds out. "Let's see how a witch with no magic does against me."

Eve starts crying, pulling at Caroline's collar. She holds her closer, putting a hand protectively on the back of her head.

"You've upset the child," Dahlia says with feigned sympathy. "Pity. You ought not to waste your last hours with her this way. You should spend your time saying your farewells. Nightfall tomorrow will come all too soon. Goodbye for now... Little one."

Dahlia locks eyes with Caroline and smiles. She only breathes again when the sound of her footsteps dwindles in the distance and she can hear nothing but her own heart thundering in her ears.

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The deliverance from his siblings' incessant grousing and grumbling lasts but for a brief hour. If not Rebekah, Elijah, if not Elijah, Caroline. These days, there's always someone pestering him with questions or aberrant and illogical pleas, appealing to an alleged familial bond he is supposed to feel for a complete stranger whose name he'd only heard in passing until now - and whose intentions are still as shady as she is herself.

He thought he'd been clear with Elijah about where they stand: if he continues to refuse to forsake Freya, there is no conversation. Klaus is not going to leave his daughter's life in the hands of someone he cannot trust. It doesn't matter that she wants to rid herself of Dahlia, that she hates the woman who raised her just as much as they hate the one who raised them. Klaus doesn't trust that she wouldn't put Eve in danger just to set herself free from her millennium-old shackles. At this point, she hardly cares about anything or anyone but her own personal plight. How can Elijah and Rebekah not see that?

"I'm not in the mood, Elijah," he grumbles as his brother falls in stride with him as he makes his way back to the compound after stepping out for a moment to gather some intel from a few of his sources around the Quarter. He can't even breathe some bloody fresh air without getting harassed. Klaus knows these are drastic times, but is nothing sacred anymore? He doesn't turn to Elijah, doesn't slow down his pace. "I suggest you allow me to make my way home in peace."

"Enough with the games, Niklaus," he says evenly. "Now is not the time. Must I beseech you to stand with us?"

"If by _us_ you mean you and Freya, then I will not be standing with you."

"She is the best chance we have to save your child."

Klaus grunts under his breath, pulling Elijah aside on the pavement to look in his eyes as he speaks. "Yes, Elijah, _my_ child. Which is why, although she feigns innocence, I can't help but recall it was Freya who led our lunatic brother Finn to the safe house, where he would've done God knows what if you had not intervened at great personal cost."

"I was a breath away from taking your life, Niklaus," he says, the corner of his lips tugging upwards into a bitter smile. "Just a few short years ago, when you broke your curse, I held your beating heart in my hand. Do you recall that, brother? Or perhaps you'll remember how _you_ almost killed Caroline. Or how she herself used to act as bait to keep you distracted while her friends plotted your death time and time again. I remember hearing of that one time they nearly succeeded, when mother turned that professor whose body you forcefully inhabited into one of us - what was his name?"

Klaus puffs out in annoyance. "Elijah -"

"And yet," his brother raises his tone above his. "Here we are, still alive and unexpectedly a family. We have our differences, we fight, we often get murderous, but _we are family_. You can't tell me that you don't feel that in your bones about Freya. We need her, brother. If you cannot see the greater picture here -"

"You see only around the next curve in the road," Klaus grinds out accusingly. "I am looking from above. Freya gave herself away when she complained of our single weapon to kill Dahlia. Now, I know there is a way to defeat our hated enemy without her."

"So enlighten me and I will do everything in my power to help you," Elijah says in a near plea. "I am not your enemy, Niklaus, all I want is to save my niece."

"Forsake Freya and I will let you in."

Elijah breathes out in frustration, grinding his teeth together. "You are acting insane. Eve is also my family, and she has a mother whom you've tried to alienate from your one-sided, authoritarian decisions. Putting aside the fact that you're shutting _me_ off, the person who's stood by you every step of the way, even when you least deserved it, you're also pushing away someone who shares your every grievance and wants nothing more than to be reunited with you as a family, _treated_ with the dignity that she deserves - that she's _earned_. Caroline is no reckless child. If you continue down this path, Niklaus, you will lead them both towards harm. And do not misunderstand me when I say this to you: I will do _whatever_ it takes to prevent this."

Klaus steps closer to his brother, staring him down with a dark flame burning inside of him. "So will I," he says gravely. "I trusted their safety to others before - to perceived allies, to reasonably interested parties, to _you_ , brother. And you have all failed me. I trust Caroline will keep our child safe and I know she will do anything to protect her, and therein lies my problem. I won't lose Eve. But I'm not willing to lose Caroline either, and she will not hesitate before jumping into harm's way. So you see, _I_ have to protect them both. I won't be putting the survival of what matters the most in this world to me in the hands of a sister I never knew and whose intentions are as dubious as her pathetic sob stories. So the choice remains yours, Elijah. Freya... Or me."

Before he can whirl around and leave Elijah to ponder over these preposterous, nonsensical ideas of his, Klaus' phone buzzes in his pocket. He fishes it out to see Caroline's name flashing on the screen.

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"Of course I tried to call you! Several times!" Caroline barks at Klaus. He got to St. James' Infirmary in a second once she was finally able to reach him. He is obviously beyond himself with rage and freaked out, which is understandable. The only problem is that he's directing his anger _at her_. "Since Dahlia was able to take down both you and Mikael at the same time, I'm guessing jamming a cell phone tower was a piece of cake. What did you want me to do? Send you a smoke signal? Tie an SOS message to a freaking pigeon?"

"You weren't supposed to be alone!" he snipes back.

"I wasn't!"

"Where did the wolves go?" Elijah asks, in a much more composed tone, though his eyes are just as electric as Klaus'.

"I sent them out to get help, then they had their asses handed to them by Dahlia, just like everyone who's tried to fight her so far," Caroline says, fixing Klaus with a sharp look.

"That's it," he says. "You're coming with me to the compound."

"Where she sent Josephine just this morning? No way. We'll be sitting ducks, just like we will be here as soon as the barrier spell breaks. It's nearly gone already." She points to the flowers on the walls, just in case they've missed them when they came in.

Elijah, in particular, looks crestfallen. This was his idea. Although Caroline hasn't been exactly happy about being exiled to a freaking bar in Algiers with her baby, she has to say that it was a good plan, and one that clearly worked - to a point. Dahlia tracked them down, but she couldn't come in. It was a solid spell, but it was Josephine's magic holding the barrier up. They took all the precautions in the world, but one tiny one slipped everyone’s minds: to safeguard the person who was keeping the spell alive. Now it’ll be a matter of time before it breaks.

Nowhere is safe anymore. Jackson was right. Caroline was reluctant before, even straight-out against it, but these latest developments have swayed her mind. They need to get Eve out of the city, to a place where it won't be so easy for Dahlia to navigate. Even all-mighty powers have limitations. With her daughter's magic bound, she won't be traceable.

The only problem is... Now she has to convince Klaus of that.

"Now... Hear me out," she says as calmly as she can, but she can hear the nervous threads woven into her voice. Klaus' instinctive reaction to everything is to roar and lash out and they don't have enough time to fight over this. Caroline is certain that this is the right choice, but making Klaus see past his prejudice and his pride is a whole different thing. This is a conversation that should be had under different circumstances - not out of desperation, in a hurry, with both of them at the end of their wits from so much stress. But when has anything ever been easy in New Orleans? "Before you start spitting knives at me - just listen, ok? We should take the wolves - Jackson and I - and head to the Bayou."

Klaus' frown descends into an apocalyptic scowl. " _Jackson_?" he sneers, furious. "And this _brilliant_ idea to drag my child to the swamp to be surrounded by the very wolves Dahlia took out so easily wouldn't have come from him, would it? You know, it doesn't surprise me that he would suggest something as preposterous as this, I've never been fooled by Jackson. What astounds me is that _you_ would even give this nonsense an honest consideration. You can't possibly be serious, Caroline!"

"It's not nonsense," she protests mildly, determined not to lose her cool just yet. "I didn't agree with it straight away, but we have run out of options. Jackson knows every inch of the Bayou. He knows where to hide, where to run to and where to attack. As powerful as Dahlia is, I doubt she would ever find her way out there easily. Not even you two can, and you've been there a million times." Klaus opens his mouth, no doubt to start shooting down every last one of her arguments, but Caroline puts her hands out to pause him. "I'm not crazy, Klaus. I would never do anything if I thought I'd be putting our daughter in danger, which she is in, right now, just by staying here while the protection spell wears off. I've given this a real thought. Just running to the Bayou won't be enough, but I may have a way to keep Eve from tapping into her magic. Jackson and Aiden are out there right now getting it done. Eve's magic is how Dahlia tracks her, right? If she can't do magic, Dahlia won't know where she is - but we need to get her out of the French Quarter. There are too many eyes here, and not enough places to hide. There, it will be our turf, the odds will be in our favor. We don't have to defeat her, Klaus, we just need to lose her for a year. After that, she goes back to sleep, and we're done."

Klaus is quiet for a moment longer, and Caroline almost allows herself to celebrate that he might be, at the very least, considering the idea. But then his lips twist with scorn, pupils dilating to make his eyes near black in the low light. "Absolutely not."

"You're not listening!"

"I've listened enough!" Klaus snaps. "You run off to the Bayou, and then what? Do you think Dahlia will just stop searching for you? That she won't take down this entire city if that's what it takes to lure you out? How long and how far do you think you can run, Caroline? Whatever has made you think that you and Eve will be safer with _werewolves_ \- and not even particularly competent ones at that - than with me and Elijah?"

"It's not that -"

"Your idea is idiotic and it will fail, so I will do you a favor and thwart it now before the worst comes to pass because of your unshakable faith in those flea-bitten mongrels. You are _not_ to take my daughter and disappear into the swamp with your wolf protectors, and that is final!"

Caroline feels something like lava rising inside of her, rage and disbelief battling for dominance before the first takes over completely. She wanted Klaus to run with them, maybe Elijah as well. She didn't want to do this unless he agreed to it. But she sees now that it was wishful thinking on her part to believe that it was ever a possibility. He's been out of his mind with paranoia for months now, refusing to listen to anyone. But if he gets to be a selfish asshole, then two can play this game.

"All I've done so far is go where I'm told," Caroline starts, keeping her voice level despite the ire flaring up behind her eyes. "You told me to stay indoors, I did. Elijah told me to come here, I did. I've followed _all_ of your plans without question - the ones you bothered to share with me, that is. You've put your life in danger. I've put mine. And none of us are any closer to keeping our child safer because of that. Maybe it's time _you_ start listening to _me_. Or better yet! Maybe it's time I start acting like you." She takes a step forward, staring him dead in the eye. "From now on, I will do whatever I think it's best. Eve and I are leaving."

She tries to walk past him, but Klaus grabs her arm and swings her around towards him. "You're not going anywhere unless I tell you to," he grinds out dangerously.

"I'm not your prisoner, Klaus!" 

"Both of you, please," Elijah steps in, probably sensing that things were about to escalate. She wouldn't put it past Klaus to drag her kicking and screaming back to the compound and lock her up in the dungeons. "By fighting each other like this, we're only playing into Dahlia's hands. This is exactly what she wants, to sow discord amongst us, divide us, _weaken_ us. We're making it all too easy for her."

His heartfelt appeal falls on deaf ears on both sides. They are way past the point of reasonable compromise.

"Not doing as I say plays into Dahlia's hands," Klaus spits out.

"You are not our lord and savior, Klaus! So stop acting like it!" she shoots back at him.

"While you two have been kowtowing to Freya and devising ways to flee with your tail between your legs, I've been forging a new path," he says, staring directly at Caroline. "I know what Freya was planning and I know how to kill Dahlia."

Caroline folds her arms across her chest stubbornly. "Then tell us. Share your grand idea, right now. Or I'm leaving and I don't care what miraculous, brilliant plan you come up with."

Klaus takes a sharp intake of air, scrubbing a hand across his face. Clearly, he doesn't want to tell them, but he seems resigned, coming to the obvious conclusion that shutting them out - shutting _her_ out - is not gonna help him at all right now. Trust is a two-way street; he can either trust Caroline with this wonderful plan of his and let her be the judge of whether or not it’s worth a shot, or he can forget about it, because she's not gonna sit back and wait like a damsel in a cracking glass tower anymore.

"Freya objected to us making a single weapon because her plan was to -"

"Klaus!"

Three heads snap around at once when they hear the furious call coming from outside the Infirmary.

Caroline’s eyebrows slash together. “Jackson?”

"<i>Klaus!</i>" Jackson screams again, his voice sounding raw and anguished as he comes closer. He storms through the door carrying someone in his arms, putting the man down on a long table across the club. Caroline rushes to their side, finally getting a good look at the injured man. No, not injured, though. Dead.

Her heart stutters, a horrified gasp escaping her mouth.

_Aiden_. Dead.

"Oh my God," she rasps out. All of her anger dissolves in an instant, horror dousing her fire as she takes in Aiden’s motionless, ashen body. He has a huge gash on the side of his face, his cheek open and bloodied with what resembles claw marks. There's another smaller wound on his neck, but the cause of death is a different one. His shirt is soaked in blood around his chest, a huge hole exactly where his heart should be. "No..."

She looks up at Jackson with a question, finds him glowering at Klaus, his eyes bright with tears and fury.

"What happened?" she asks.

"Klaus made Aiden spy on us," he grits out. "Instead, he told me everything, so _you killed him_!"

Caroline whips her head at Klaus, a sharp twinge in her chest. His expression is perfectly blank, but she can swear she sees shock flitting across his eyes. "No," she says, shaking her head with vehemence. The wounds on Aiden's face and neck look a lot like something only a werewolf would be able to do. A werewolf who can control his form, seeing as it’s not a full moon. But it can't be. She refuses to believe this. "Klaus wouldn't do this. You wouldn't," she turns to him, a plea in her eyes. "Tell him."

Klaus looks down at Aiden's body, then up at Caroline, eyes burning into hers with an emotion she cannot read. Whatever it was, it lifts almost instantly, his expression smoothing into perfect nonchalance as he sticks his chin forward. "So what if I did?" 

Caroline's heart sinks so fast it sends her head spinning.

"You killed him?" Her voice quivers, unraveling around the edges. "One of the wolves sworn to protect our daughter?"

"This is what happens to anyone who dares to cross me!" Klaus snarls, pointing at Aiden.

She takes a stumbly step back, dizzy with the whirlwind of emotions rushing through her, drawing a shuddery breath in as she tries to swallow past the bitterness in her throat.

"Just give the word, Jackson," one of the wolves says darkly to their alpha.

"Yes! Come and have a go!” Klaus sneers. “But you'll be putting your life on the line for one who was all too willing to betray you. Perhaps this would've never happened if he'd had a real alpha."

Jackson launches at Klaus with a feral growl, hitting him with a punch that sends him stumbling back, but he recovers fast. In a blink, he's striking back, and the two of them are caught in a vicious brawl. Caroline doesn't even feel herself moving until she's stepping in the middle of their fist fight, pushing Klaus away from Jackson. All she can think is, _He's going to kill him, he's going to kill him_.

"Stop it!" she yells, but Jackson is taken with rage like she's never seen before. He tries to reach Klaus again, close his fists around his jacket, but this time Elijah is the one who steps in, shoving Jackson violently back, keeping a hand on his throat.

"Do you wish to die?" he asks coldly.

Caroline slaps his arm away from Jackson. "No one touches him!" Elijah's eyes widen, taken aback by her ferocity. She can barely hear herself thinking over the roaring sound of her heart beating in her ears, but she'll be damned if she'll let any more werewolves get murdered by Mikaelson hands. "Unless you want to kill me, too."

Klaus' eyes glimmer with something dark, his lips thinning to a line.

Elijah stands in front of his brother, looking at Caroline and the Crescents. "If you come at him, you come at me."

Klaus smirks smugly from behind him. "You lot should make better use of your time. I suggest burying the dead."

Caroline sees red at his scorn. It takes every ounce of self-control in her not to lunge at Klaus herself, the werewolf bits of her monster roaring to life like she was yet to experience, desperate to claw that smugness off his face.

" _Get out_!" She yells with such heat and intent that Klaus is momentarily thrown, a stiffening across his face. She wouldn't be surprised if her eyes were burning yellow; she can feel her Crescent bond thrumming through her like energy, the magic of it singing in her system.

When she went through that ceremony with Jackson, she didn't just promise to protect him. She promised to protect _his_. The Crescents became a part of her family. And to think the person she loves the most would do that... Betray her trust and brutally slay someone who was at their home, guarding their daughter with his life, almost every day. The pain of the realization goes beyond any physical limits, cuts deeper than her flesh. She can feel all of the little shards of her shattered heart rattling away inside her chest.

"Niklaus, please. You mentioned a plan. I recommend you begin. Caroline and Eve are safe for the time being," Elijah says, his eyes cutting to her. "They're not going anywhere."

"It shan't be long," Klaus says, stalking out.

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Caroline's face is an open book. It's such a strange thing, and a most formidable one, Elijah thinks, to be around someone who wears her emotions so brightly, doesn't hide behind sarcasm or skepticism, doesn't mash everything into a single blank expression that can convey a million things at once or nothing at all. It's refreshing, such honesty. And also a punch to the guts, just how raw it is.

Right now, her face is a perfect mask of disappointment and heartbreak. She is crushed, and hurt, a deep-rooted kind of exhaustion tugging at the corner of her lips. It always breaks his heart to see Caroline like this, her light doused by the ache in her chest. Elijah feels terribly guilty.

He is not proud of having defended his brother in those circumstances. What Niklaus did... It'll cost him dearly. It'll cost them all. This will come back to bite him in ways not even he might be able to bear. Right now, however, they have an enemy to defeat and not a lot of time. If Niklaus is telling the truth when he says he knows how to defeat Dahlia, then he needs to get on with it. Whatever happens, nothing will erase the damage he's already caused. They might as well avoid any more costly losses at the hands of their aunt.

She hasn't said a word to him since his brother stormed off, has barely looked his way. Niklaus should've been there to see what his ridiculous act of brutality has done. Caroline held Jackson in a tight embrace for long minutes, exchanging words so lowly Elijah couldn't even hear them. Jackson had his eyes closed the whole time, his face marred by the rage he harbored inside, written across every line of his expression. Caroline had her back turned, but Elijah could tell she was crying by the way she'd shudder every once in a while. Her eyes were rid-rimmed and wet by the time she pulled away from him.

That Niklaus can be a savage, cold-blooded monster is no novelty. What astonishes Elijah is that he could be this much of an idiot. To cause this much pain to the person he claims to love most in this world... He truly has lost it completely. And now it's up to Elijah to hold things together long enough for them to take down Dahlia. Not that the future seems promising either way; the dark clouds looming in the horizon will persist regardless of their victory. Something precious and fragile was broken today, and they might never be able to walk away from it.

Elijah tries to stay out of the wolves' way as best as he can while they care for their fallen brother, keeping an eye on Eve instead. It's practically a miracle she's been asleep throughout the whole debacle. A small blessing.

While Jackson and his brethren took Aiden's body to the back of the club, maybe preparing to transport him back to the Bayou, Elijah called Rebekah to let her know what happened - and prepare for what's to come. She was as horrified as one would expect. A thousand years and still Niklaus finds ways to astonish people whose expectations of him are very low to begin with.

He only wishes Klaus hadn't been ousted as a complete maniac before he could explain his plan. It would be good to have a time frame to work with. Elijah has no idea how much longer he's going to have to hold Caroline here, but he has a burning feeling that she won't stay quiet for long. Jackson came back, as did some of the wolves, standing guard despite the danger they now know they're in - not only from Dahlia, but from someone who should be an ally. It's rather commendable - the resilience, for certain, but above all their loyalty to Caroline.

Elijah has been avoiding the bar because that is where Caroline is, leaning back against it, watching as the wolves move about the place. For the past ten minutes, she's been staring fixedly at Jackson. The Crescent alpha looks the perfect picture of misery as he stands by Eve's crib, watching the little one sleep. He was tying something around her wrist just now, like a bracelet. Maybe it's a Crescent heirloom he wants to pass on to her. Niklaus will have all kinds of fits if he finds out, but Elijah won’t say a word. His brother has relinquished the right to demand anything from Caroline.

With diffident steps, Elijah approaches the bar. He's in desperate need of a drink. If they're to be locked in this place in suspense for the next foreseeable hours, then he definitely needs some liquid encouragement to push him through it.

As soon as he's done pouring himself a glass of bourbon, however, he hears the ring of Caroline's voice. "Great job today," she remarks with unfamiliar coolness.

"I was protecting your daughter," he replies mildly.

"No, you weren't." Caroline approaches him, standing very close, her gaze burning into his. She keeps her voice low. "You _know_ how completely out of his depth Klaus is. And Aiden..." she trails off and swallows hard, looking down.

"Caroline..." Elijah starts in what he hopes is a pacifying tone. "He loves you. He loves Eve. I love her."

She looks up at him, a sharp glint in her cobalt eyes. "If that's true, then do the right thing for her."

"If you run to the Bayou, I cannot protect you from Dahlia. Or from Niklaus's wrath once he finds you," he says pointedly.

“If you still think I can’t take care of myself, you haven’t been paying attention.”

“It's not yourself you should worry about, but anyone who aids you in escaping. Especially the werewolves.”

Caroline remains steadfast. "You know I'm right, Elijah. We tried things his way. We tried things your way. None of it worked. If we stay here, Dahlia will come and she will take my daughter with a snap of her fingers. I'm not letting her do that. I was forced to watch while a bunch of witches took my daughter from me once, and I won't do it again. She'll have to kill me first."

"Caroline -"

"The bracelet Jackson just put on her arm," she continues. "It binds her magic. Davina made it. She'll be safe, as long as she's not _here_. Jackson knows every little inch in the Bayou and I know Marcel would help us get out of the city. The only thing standing in our way now is you."

Elijah stutters with doubt. So that's what that bracelet is for. With the protection spell at St. James' Infirmary falling apart, a bracelet to bind Eve's magic would be the most effective way to keep her hidden from Dahlia, at least until they can figure out a way to put her down. Since Niklaus has refused time and time again to share what he has in mind, Elijah has no way to judge how likely he is to succeed, or how long it'll take for him to do so. Which just about makes Caroline's suggestion all the more tempting.

Still, he hesitates. There are so many pieces to this puzzle, so much at stake. It would be foolish of him to think the matter of Eve's magic is the only impediment.

"You are asking me to betray my brother, Caroline."

"As he's betrayed you countless times before," she counters. An argument that is hard to refute, but still not sufficiently compelling.

"Do you have any idea what you and your daughter escaping to the Bayou behind his back will do to him?"

She pauses, her eyes flickering away from him momentarily. "I won't go with Jack."

Elijah frowns. "What?"

Caroline is quiet for a beat longer. All that aura of determination dims all of a sudden, and she looks... Defeated. "I can't believe he killed Aiden," she says quietly. "I just... Can't."

Elijah exhales heavily. "I know it's hard to accept it, Caroline, but there isn't much to hold on to for denial when he just confessed to the murder."

"And I can't understand why he would confess to something he didn't do."

"The simple answer is... Because he was telling the truth."

"I don't think he was," she speaks resolutely, her blue gaze sharpening. "Jackson will take Eve and the wolves and they'll disappear while there's still time. I'll go see your brother. He and I need to have a little talk."

"You would trust your daughter to that man?"

"Yes," she replies assertively, not missing a single beat. "I know he'll protect her. You can help him get out of the city. Once we figure out how to deal with Dahlia, I'll go find Jackson and bring her back. I'm not trying to take her away from her father, I'm not running from Klaus. Ideally, I wanted him to come with us, but he wouldn’t even let me finish. It's just for a little while, just until we figure out how to deal with this. And if we don't, and Dahlia kills us all… Then at least she won't take her."

Elijah cannot fault her reasoning, but he can't say he's entirely convinced by her blind faith in Jackson's ability to keep her daughter out of harm's way with someone like Dahlia biting at his heels. In some subconscious level, Elijah can admit that his opinions on the young Crescent alpha are somewhat biased, and perhaps he has been underestimating him all along. But the Caroline who believes in Jackson is the same Caroline who thinks Niklaus didn't kill Aiden. Sometimes he wonders if she's just seeing what she wants to see.

Sensing his lingering hesitation, she ploughs on. "If you have a better idea, Elijah, I'm all ears. Give me something. A solution. Anything practical that we can hold on to for hope. _Anything_ at all, Elijah, and I'll listen." She pauses, leaving him silence to fill. Elijah considers every option at hand and comes up empty. "That's what I thought. You know I would never put Eve in danger. I'm desperate, and the one person who should be making me feel a little more reassured right now is out of control. I'm not doing this out of spite. I'm doing this because it's the only way. Now... Do you trust me?"

Elijah looks into her eyes, so warm and full of hope despite the hurt and the fear. "Yes," he says, and means it.

She puts a hand on top of his, gives him a gentle squeeze. "Then help me get Jackson and Eve away from here before Dahlia comes for her."

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Caroline takes a nervous breath, trying to quench down the sick turmoil churning away inside of her.

The more rational part of her is 100% focused on Eve and Dahlia, and it's hard to think objectively amid the jumble of thoughts crowding her mind. But there's this other part, this persistent little voice underneath everything else, screaming in her head that she needs to hear the truth from his lips, looking into his eyes.

Klaus didn't kill Aiden. At least, she doesn't think he did. It's not beyond the realm of things he's capable of, as mercurial and given to violent outbursts as he is. But she saw it in his eyes, the war taking place there, the little flicker of hurt. It lasted but a second, and then that shield of contempt fell back into place. But it was there, she's certain of that. What she can't figure out is _why_ he would claim ownership over something so terrible, in front of everyone.

Maybe it doesn't matter, whether he did it or not. If he's willing to take the blame, then what's the difference? Learning the truth changes nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it might change everything for her. If he so desperately wants her to believe that he murdered a Crescent, knowing what it'll do to her, what it'll do to _them_ , then he doesn't deserve forgiveness either way. But, at the very least, he owes her the decency of honesty. And that's what she came to the compound to get.

She finds Klaus going through his paintings, picking one after the other and piling them up against a wall as though he means to take them elsewhere.

"Going somewhere?" she asks, trying to keep her expression as blank as she possibly can.

His head snaps up at her, lips pursing in discontentment. "You're not supposed to be here.”

"Well, I am. What are you gonna do about it? Kill me, like you did with Aiden?" she asks almost conversationally, disguising the pang in her chest.

A shadow crosses Klaus' eyes and he looks away, focusing once more on fussing with his paintings. "Spare me of your reprehension, Caroline. I've got no time for that. And neither do you. I thought I was very clear you were not supposed to leave the Infirmary under any circumstances. How did you get out? Stabbed Elijah in the back?"

"I didn't have to. There was something I needed to get."

"And what is that?"

She steps up to him, searching his face until it's impossible for him to avoid her anymore. "Your confession."

"Weren't you listening? I already confessed. Was that not enough for you? Or do you have some kind of morbid curiosity? Would you like to hear the gory details?" Caroline's jaw clenches. Klaus holds his chin up, staring her down unapologetically. "You knew exactly who I was when you accepted that drink that led to Eve’s conception. I can hardly be blamed for your disappointment."

"Oh, because you're _as bad as it comes_? _Pure evil_?" she sneers angrily. "I wish I could believe that. It would make things _so_ much easier for me. But I know that's not true. Whenever things get complicated, you run right back to your big bad wolf cushion, where it's comfortable and painless, where you can tell yourself that you don't have to care for anything or anyone, where you can pretend you're not hurting or just as scared as the rest of us. But you got found out, Klaus. I wouldn't have accepted that drink if I believed that to be true, and I wouldn't be here right now if I believed you killed Aiden. I'm here because I can't understand _why_ you would want to take the blame for that."

"Caroline -"

"Did you or did you not kill Aiden?" she cuts him off, the question sharp as a knife. Before he draws breath to shoot out the first atrocity at the tip of his tongue, she prods on. "Think very carefully before you answer. I know the truth, I could see it in your eyes when Jackson accused you. But if you tell me now that you did it, if you still, for some deranged reason, want to maintain that confession, even though it is an atrocious, unacceptable act of cruelty, I will take your word for it, and I swear to God, Klaus, this will be the last time you see me."

Klaus stares at her levelly for a heartbeat longer before he sags under the strain, his expression shifting into one of weary resignation. "If I have spilled Crescent blood, then you will be forced to question the pack's loyalty to Eve... And you will not run," he says, his voice more than a little shaky around the edges. "Only I can save my daughter. Only I can keep you safe. And I need them to fear me."

Relief floods into Caroline's veins like a balm, and she lets go of a breath with an edge of a sob. It does not bring her comfort, though. The ache in her chest doesn't dwindle, not even a little bit. What does happen is that her resolve suddenly crumbles, the cracks in her armor growing impossibly large.

"Am I supposed to fear you too?" she asks in a small voice, tears prickling behind her eyes.

"It would be better if you did," Klaus says, bitter hurt clear under his words. "If you believe I am a monster."

"I did, once. I used to be terrified of you, Klaus. I thought you were the vilest creature to ever walk this earth. When you came into my room on my 18th birthday, I thought for sure you were there to kill me. That you were going to take my heart, put a bow on it and leave it on Tyler's doorstep. But every time you came near me, you went out of your way to make me feel safe. So why are you trying to scare me off now?"

"Because I love you too much to lose you!" he exclaims, exasperated, a wild intensity in his eyes. "I would rather you be terrified of me again but alive, than comfortable and dead. I don't care what I have to do, Caroline, I don't care if you hate me for it. Nothing in this world matters to me if you're gone. You and Eve are everything I care about. I _need_ you. And I can't allow anyone to take you away from me. I won't."

Caroline swallows thickly, by now unable to hold back the tears. She never thought hearing something so heartfelt and true, such a powerful confession of love, could hurt so much. To think that she is the very thing that's sending Klaus into the path of darkness, that his feelings for her are corrupting in such a terrible, twisted manner, stealing away his sanity... It hits her like a punch to the guts, a sharp and dull ache that radiates forward, makes her weak around the knees.

She loves him so much and yet she cannot protect him from himself. Or from how he feels for her.

She reaches for him, cupping his face with one quaking hand. Klaus eases into her touch, the manic glint in his eyes faltering for just a second.

"Why can't you just trust me?" she asks.

"I trust you more than you know. But I don't trust anyone else. Jackson, Freya, not even Elijah." He puts a hand under her chin, the tips of his fingers caressing her skin ever so gently. "I will leave you with the burden of the truth that no one will believe in: I did not kill Aiden. But then you already knew that." He presses his lips to hers in a soft kiss. "Go back to the Infirmary, Caroline, and trust that I will do everything in my power to stop that woman."

"I know you will. That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

She pulls away from him, wiping the wetness off her face with her fingers, already feeling the distance like a growing wound. She wanted to stay by his side, watch his every step, make sure he won't do anything he won't be able to take back, be consumed by the madness she sees burning behind the storm of blue in his eyes. But she should go back to the Infirmary. Jackson is about to leave with her daughter. Klaus will hate her when he finds out, and it will kill her. But maybe he should. Maybe that would bring him clarity.

Just before she leaves, she turns back to him. "I love you, Klaus," she says. "Don't forget that."

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_I have lost my mind_ , Elijah thinks as he settles his niece carefully into the car seat attached to the getaway car Marcel has kindly provided for Jackson and the werewolves to escape the city unnoticed. Some of his men will leave in his truck, carrying Aiden's body, while he, Marcel and a few others will hop into this car, along with Eve. They'll meet the rest of the pack in the Bayou and disappear from sight.

He must have gone absolutely insane to allow this to happen.

There isn't a single part of this absurd plan Elijah is comfortable with, starting with the fact he is entrusting Eve's safety entirely to Jackson Kenner. The man does seem to be devoted to her, though, even after Niklaus murdered one of his closest friends. He holds Caroline in very high esteem. Still, Elijah cannot accept that the baby would ever be safer with mere werewolves, however empowered they might be, than she would be in the care of her indestructible family or her mother.

And yet he cannot argue with Caroline's logic. He asked Marcel to reach out to Davina and have the little witch try and find Eve through a locator spell. She conceded, despite not feeling very charitable towards their family after the news about Aiden. She could not trace his niece, even as Elijah held her outside the club. There are Crescent wolves spread all across the Bayou, and many more allies from other packs. Dahlia won't ever be able to pinpoint Jackson's precise location, especially since they have several hiding spots in the deepest parts of the swamp that, much like St. James' Infirmary, have been spelled against witchcraft. With Eve wearing that bracelet, Dahlia won't find her. In such short notice, with them running out of time, this is the best chance they have. It gives them a chance to beat Dahlia, if Niklaus' plan proves fruitful, or at the very least keep her occupied long enough for Jackson to vanish from her radar.

Elijah has been chanting that logic to himself for an hour now, trying to quench the terrible doubt that eats away at him. All he can hope for is that this isn't the last time he sees his niece, and when she is returned to the arms of her mother, to her family, it will be in safety, the threatening clouds looming over their heads gone for good.

He's collected all of her personal items, everything that Caroline brought with her to the Infirmary. While Marcel arranged for the grand escape, he even prepared her next bottle, since he has no idea if Jackson even knows how to do that, or when he'll find somewhere to do it. There are tons of baby food that Caroline packed, diapers, clothes, toys, formula, pacifiers and blankets. She's well stocked, but depending on how long this takes, they might need to get provisions, so he writes down a list of items and instructions, things he imagines Caroline would've written herself if she had the time. She did talk Jackson through everything before she left to see Niklaus, but it doesn't hurt to reinforce it. He wants Eve to be as well cared for as she would be in her own home. It’ll never be the same, but it has to be enough. For now, at least.

Elijah checks to see that she's correctly strapped into her seat, and that the bracelet is safely on her wrist. "I'm sorry, little girl," he whispers softly, Eve's big eyes staring curiously at him. It tugs at something deep inside of him. Exactly like her father's, Elijah thinks. Or rather, what her father's were like when he was a little boy, devoid of the damning madness and the malice. "You're going to have to be very brave again. I will not rest until I can bring you back to your mother. She loves you so very much. And so do I." Elijah leans over, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"We're all set," Jackson announces, walking up to him.

Elijah straightens up. "This beautiful little girl means everything to me," he says, fixing Jackson under a stern look. "The only reason I'm allowing you to take her is because her mother wants you to. Caroline's instincts haven't failed her or this family yet. But make no mistake: should anything happen to her, there will be no Crescent wolf left in the Bayou to tell the sad story of how your entire clan was wiped out of this earth in a single night. I will personally make sure of that."

Jackson's eyes darken, his lips pursing bitterly, but he does not falter. "I will not fail Caroline," he says, emphasizing her name. Elijah never had any illusions that the only person he owes an allegiance to is her. Right now, Jackson doesn't have to be loyal to him or to Niklaus. He only has to fear them, and know that they will come for him and everything he holds dear if he fails.

"I'm trusting you not to. Never let her out of your sight, never trust her to anyone else, and guard her with your life. Once Dahlia has been eliminated... Bring her back to us, safe and sound."

"I will."

Jackson lets him take one last look at Eve before he climbs in beside her and shuts the door. Then they're gone, leaving Elijah with a heavy heart and a sour taste in his mouth.

He can only hope he’s done the right thing.

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Caroline gets a text from Elijah right after she exits the compound.

_On their way. Hope you're right about this._

She shuts her eyes for a second too long, takes on a steadying breath, her heart giving a violent lurch. Caroline isn't entirely certain about anything, anymore. But she's doing the best she can, and hope is all there is. Hope and courage, the drive to move forward, to fight to their deaths. It's not much, not by a mile, but it's all they have left.

The stab of guilt is inevitable. Klaus will go ballistic when he finds out. He'll see it as a betrayal. Might never forgive her for allowing Jackson to run with their child. But what else is she supposed to do when he seems to be the only one who hasn't accepted yet that Dahlia just might be unbeatable to them? She's taken him down once; she could do it again. Caroline doesn't want to part from her daughter, she feels like a terrible mother, but she'd feel like an even worse one if anything happened to Eve because of her selfishness.

Nine months ago, they all agreed that she had to be taken away in order to be safe. Things are different now, but the bottom line is still the same, even if Klaus refuses to see it. Things are more uncertain, and far more dangerous; Dahlia is more lethal than an entire pack of Guerreras, and Jackson is not Rebekah. In many ways, it's harder to let go of her now than it was nine months ago. Before, they knew Eve would be fine and well cared for. It offered very little comfort to Caroline's troubled newly-transitioned heart, but it was a silver lining nonetheless, something to hold on to. Now, they don't even have that.

Klaus will rage and scream and crash and burn and he will hate her with a passion, but if they’re giving their daughter a chance; if, at the end of the day, even if they all perish, Eve is still safe... Well, that's a price she's willing to pay. It will break her, leave her in tatters, but it'll be nothing compared to losing her child.

Maybe things will turn out well. Maybe Klaus' plan to defeat Dahlia will come through and by tomorrow night, the witch will be dead and Jackson can bring her back. The thrill of the happy ending will trump any bitterness Klaus might have over her escape plan, he'll mope around and pout for a little bit, but he'll get over it and peace will be restored. They'll finally get a chance to learn what it's like to just be a family - no immediate death threats looming over their heads, no resurrected relatives coming back to haunt them.

Now, isn't that a nice thought? It's what she'll be holding on to for the next couple of days, keeping it close to her courage as she sets it firmly at the center of her heart. A light against the merciless darkness that has encompassed everything around her.

"Hello again, my child."

Caroline freezes in her stride as she turns around a corner, into an alley, and finds Dahlia there, a sharp smile on her lips that does not meet the ice in her eyes.

"Now that we're in equal conditions, we can have a proper conversation," the witch says, taking a step forward.

Caroline instinctively stumbles back, but Dahlia puts a hand forward, a slow and lazy movement, and Caroline finds herself paralyzed. Everything inside of her is quaking, but she can't move, can't run, can't even turn her head.

"What do you want?" she grits out, hating the edge of panic in her voice.

"You know what I want. Give me the child and no one has to get hurt."

"Over my dead body."

"Ah. I was afraid you might say that. The problem is... I've no qualms with doing just that."

Dahlia flicks her wrist and Caroline's leg bones snap. Her vision explodes in white as she drops to the ground with a loud and desperate groan. The witch calmly walks up to her, putting a finger under her chin to lift her face. She smiles appreciatively. "So beautiful. You are one of a kind, aren't you? A witch turned vampire, with those flashy golden eyes. And my nephew, a hybrid. What a pair the fates have brought together. That just makes your daughter all the more special."

Caroline grinds her teeth together so strongly it feels like she might break her jaw. She's shaking with fury, puffing out barely controlled heavy gusts of anger and pain, and yet _she cannot move_.

"I admire your spirit, Caroline," Dahlia continues. "You're very brave. But you're also incredibly naive. That optimism you have, that _hope_ \- it's such a terrible weakness. It'll be your ruin. It's sad, really, to see such potential go to waste. I understand my sister was rather cruel to you. She's the reason you were killed, was she not? Certainly, she did not count on you becoming a vampire. I personally find that all the worse. If she'd kept you alive, you'd still be able to have another child - or six, as Esther did. Forget all about the one that was taken."

"Esther was a monster!" Caroline snarls. "If she were a real mother, she would never let you take her daughter."

"My sister knew the bargain she made. She also knew that, as powerful as she was herself, she could not fight me. Just as you can't. You'll have to forgive me, Caroline, but I've got plans for you. You, my darling, are what I'd call a tipping point, to set Mikaelson against Mikaelson."

Dahlia waves her hand again and Caroline feels a sharp pressure in her chest, behind her ribcage. She gasps loudly, the pressure growing into an impossible ache, and suddenly she can’t breathe.

"It only takes a match to burn down acres of forest. In my plan to divide and conquer, you are the perfect kindling."

Dahlia closes her hands into a tight fist and mind-numbing pain explodes inside Caroline's chest, her vision dancing before her, blurring with the tears.

"Unfortunately, for this next part... You, darling child, need to be dead."

Caroline's lips part wordlessly; she tries to scream, but her voice is trapped behind her windless throat. The last thing she sees is Dahlia opening her palm. Her chest bursts open, lancinating pain cutting through her for just a split second, and then darkness closes in around her.

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The blood of the person Dahlia loves the most. Norwegian soil. And the ashes of her Viking oppressor.

Klaus contemplates the three key ingredients, now gathered in a different manner. Instead of making but a single weapon, he will create a space where Dahlia will be rendered vulnerable. By mixing Mikael's ashes into his paints, he was able to create three different pieces. Those pieces, when placed around a spot and magically linked, will make a perimeter. Then all he'll have to do is lure the witch into the trap and finish her off, once and for all.

Of course, for that he needs a witch to bind the ingredients together. And that's where Klaus' dilemma lies. Rebekah's far too inexperienced, he cannot count on Freya, and Davina has already done this once before, to no avail. She was reluctant at best then, now she'll likely turn him down by giving him a stroke. He promised her Kol's ashes and didn't deliver. More due to lack of time and mounting complications than any reservations, honestly, but that might just prove quite auspicious now. Perhaps he can soften her disposition with a gesture of good will, delivering his brother's remnants to her, as agreed. And then he'll ask her for this one _last_ final favor.

A bit of emotional maneuver might help as well.

_It's what Kol would've wanted. If he were here, he would do it himself._

" _Niklaus!_ " Elijah's voice cuts through his musings. Klaus lets out a disgruntled breath.

How is he supposed to get this done if people are just gonna keep barging in to interrupt him? Can't they see he is busy trying to save them all? As a matter of fact, his brother has a lot to answer for. He vowed to keep Caroline confined at the Infirmary, and then not only she manages to walk out freely, but now he -

" _Niklaus!_!" he calls out again, louder, and this time Klaus picks up on the thread of despair in his voice. There's a chilling ring to it, making Klaus immediately tense. That's not like Elijah at all.

He puts down the items he'd been holding and steps out into the walkway. Elijah is standing in the middle of the courtyard, Rebekah a few feet back, staring up at him with the darkest expression he ever remembers seeing on his face, carrying a limp body in his arms.

_No._

Klaus' heart stutters to a stop. The world tilts around him, all his surroundings blurring and then disappearing as it narrows down to only Caroline's listless form. It’s as though he's been swallowed up by a black hole, the floor yanked from under him. All sounds die out as he sharpens his hearing to focus on one thing and one thing only, but where her heart should be beating, he finds nothing but deafening silence.

In a blink, Klaus has jumped over the railing to stand before Elijah, reaching out to touch her with shaky fingers. He brushes a lock of hair off her forehead and a choked up, painful breath escapes his lips. He was with her just a moment ago. He felt her warmth as he held her, saw that unwavering light flickering behind the pain in her eyes. He kissed her rosy lips, heard the delicious lilt of her voice, even as she scolded him, angry. She looks ashen now, her skin is cool to the touch, the crimson has left her cheeks. Her veins are dark and dry, grey. _Dead_.

_No, no, no..._

A raw sound rips out of his throat, an airy grunt, despair scratching at him. He takes Caroline from Elijah's arms, crouching down with her, cradling her body in his arms, caressing her face like he expects her to open her eyes. That's when he notices the blood on her clothes, the tear on her soaking reddened shirt. He touches a trembly palm to her chest, and he can feel the ugly wound under his fingers, mangled flesh and broken ribs.

Somebody ripped out her heart.

This is what he's been so fervently trying to prevent. The fulfillment of his worst nightmare. The most dreadful, soul-grinding night of his entire existence, repeated.

Lacerating anguish knives through him, bitter and sharp, devouring him whole. In some distant corner of his mind, he can hear himself saying her name over and over again, until his voice doesn't sound his anymore, until he isn't sure whether he's speaking or just imagining it. Imagining all of this.

It can't be real. It just can't.

"How?" he breathes out, his voice tight and broken. "This is not possible... She was here, she was just... How did this happen?" He finally looks up at his siblings - Rebekah, eyes red and puffy, devastated, and Elijah, whose face is a mask of grief, lips twisted into a terrible grimace, his overbright eyes laden with pain.

"You did this," Elijah hisses, words tumbling out past clenched teeth.

"Are you mad? I would never hurt her!"

"You did this with your actions, Niklaus!" Elijah's voice cracks like a whip. "Can't you see what this is? It's _retribution_. You never think how your behavior might impact the people closest to you. When you killed Aiden, you made every werewolf your enemy. All it took was one with enough vengeance in his heart for..." Elijah chokes on his words, pressing his lips tightly together. He draws a sharp intake of breath in, pointing an accusing, menacing finger at him. " _You_ are the reason she is dead."

An angry, savage growl tears out of him as Klaus is seized by a sudden wave of pain. A fist closing around his heart, crushing it to unmendable pieces. He leans over her body, his face crumpled as hot tears stream down his cheeks. "I love her..." he mutters incoherently, broken with grief. 

From the darkest pits of his soul, Klaus feels old rage flaring up hot, a pulse that courses through his body like energy. He swore he would tear the world apart before he allowed any harm to come her way.

He trembles as he gently puts her down, hands lingering just a tad longer on her hair. In a flash, golden eyes blazing like embers and fangs out, he has his hands around Elijah's throat, shoving him hard against a wall.

"Nik!" Rebekah cries out.

"You were supposed to guard her!" he barks at Elijah's face. "I left her under your care and you let her out!"

"She went out to see you!" he yells back, shoving Klaus back with a violent push. "Because even after everything you've done, she still believed in you! You lost her once and you did not learn your lesson, Niklaus. This is the end result of your pitiful life! Every enemy you've ever made has led you to this! The mother of your child is gone! Caroline is gone!" Elijah's voice unravels at the edge, a grating bitterness in the sound.

Klaus recoils. The truth sears, hits him like the most violent punch.

_Caroline is gone._

It pierces right through him.

_Caroline is gone._

"Where is my daughter?" 

"She's safe, for now. Jackson Kenner took her to the Bayou and you will never find her."

He narrows his eyes at his brother, an altogether different kind of fury sparking to life. "You let the werewolves take my daughter?" 

" _Caroline_ let the wolves take your daughter. It was her idea, and she was right. You're a liability, Niklaus, and someone has to protect that girl."

With yet another irate growl, Klaus lunges at his brother, wrapping one hand tightly around his throat while he punches his face with all his might. Elijah tumbles back, but manages to keep his balance, attacking him right after. Klaus dodges his move and pushes him violently against the garden table. Rebekah's desperate screams barely register over the sound of his own rage, roaring in his ears.

He flashes over to Elijah again, getting on top of him, ready to punch his face into the ground, break every bone in his body, rip his heart out of his chest just to kill something, destroy something, set this world in flames. But Elijah beats him to it, stabbing him first. Klaus sees a dagger protruding from his body, driven through his heart. He grits his teeth, snarling like a beast, but as he staggers backwards, he realizes it's not just any dagger... This feels different...

Klaus' body goes terrifyingly weak, he can't even command his arms to lift and pull the dagger out. It's draining him of all his energy, fast, making him feel heavy and dizzy, almost like...

He gasps, winded, his limbs growing dormant as he tumbles to the ground. He sees Rebekah watching him with a hand on her mouth, and then Elijah looms above him, his face but a distant blur.

The last thing Klaus hears is his brother's dark and grim voice.

“This is for Caroline."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first of all, CALM DOWN, ALRIGHT? I KNOW. AND I AM NOT INSANE. It might seem like it, but I promise you I am not.
> 
> So this is my favorite chapter in the whole story. I like the way it turned out, I think it has a good pace, it's high-voltage, has lots of tension, lots of confrontations, lots of pieces moving, many things come to an all-time high and stuff finally happens. Because it was my favorite, I am VERY ANXIOUS about reactions, and I'm sure you can understand why. 😂 All I'm going to ask is, **please, please be kind**. :( I'm writing the best story I can, being true to the characters the way I understand them, and trying to drive a plot that isn't really mine. I hope you guys can understand how much work I've been putting into this.
> 
> I've received many messages about your concerns over this particular chapter and how things would be handled. WELL. I told you guys things were about to get crazy. 😅 I needed something really strong to justify stuff that will happen next, and this is it, my dudes. Dahlia is smart. I feel like, if she had someone she could threaten to get to her nephew, she would've definitely used that to her advantage. It wasn't the case with Hayley, but it is very much with Caroline. How things will unfold are scenes for the next episodes!
> 
> I hope no one gets too mad at me - about Caroline and about the whole showdown as well. For some reason people tend to get really mad at Caroline and not so much at Klaus. lol She's the mother here, folks, she's got rights, too. And I just hope that her intentions and motivations were clear enough. There are many sides to this and they all think they're right. If I've managed to get you at least a little bit conflicted, great! That's what I was aiming for. 
> 
> Having said all that, if you have enjoyed this chapter, I would VERY MUCH like to know! I'm tense here, folks, not gonna lie. 😂 I have a feeling some of you might want quicker updates from here 'till the end of TO S2 at least, and this would be a very good time to let me know. So please, please, please, drop me a note and let me know if you enjoyed this. :)
> 
> Also, if you haven't left kudos yet, please, do! 🙏
> 
> Cheers and thanks so much for reading. :)


	20. S02E20 City Beneath the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am so sorry it took me so long to update. I didn't plan on taking over two weeks to post this chapter, but between work and election week, things got really insane and I didn't get any time to work on this.
> 
> Thank you so, so much to all the lovely folks who shared their thoughts with me last chapter. 💖 The reaction to that was brilliant and I was so glad to see such love! You guys have no idea how nervous I was about posting that, as you can imagine. 😆 And yet the reaction was overwhelmingly nice. Thank you!
> 
> This update is probably not what you were looking for (yet), this is a bit of a ~~transition chapter towards the finale (which spans over two chapters/episodes), but there are some really important developments here. Hope you folks enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Your comments are so, so, so appreciated and they feed my soul! So drop me a note if you feel like it, help keep this fic writer motivated. :) Cheers!

* * *

_We are buried in broken dreams_   
_We are knee-deep without a plea_   
_I don't want to know what it's like to live without you_   
_Don't want to know the other side of a world without you_

* * *

Klaus comes to with a quiet gasp.

He feels heavy all over, a kind of dull ache in his chest that he only registers vaguely, almost as an afterthought. His mind isn't clear, hazy, and for an agonizing moment he just sits there, blinking slowly, thoughts scattered, trying to remember where he is, how he got there. And then the latest events finally come crashing down upon him.

 _Caroline_...

He is instantly swamped by grief, pain dropping over him like a chilled mantle, harsh and suffocating.

Caroline died. She was murdered.

He saw her desiccated body, touched her cold, grey skin. All that light, all that life… Gone.

And then Elijah... daggered him?

Klaus’ hand goes instinctively to his chest. His shirt is bloodied, a small rip on the fabric, and he can sense the open wound underneath, but the throbbing ache is strangely distant. How is it possible? He can't be daggered. If Elijah had simply stabbed him, he should've woken up by now. Instead, he is...

 _Where_ is he?

The creases on Klaus' brow deepen as he takes in his surroundings. He's outdoors, sitting on a path crudely paved with large, grey stones, a cloudy grey sky above him, threatening of coming rain. All he sees are a couple of simple houses with roofs thatched with what appears to be wheat straw. The kind of thing Klaus hasn't seen in centuries. Especially not in New Orleans.

"And so, Niklaus..." He snaps his head around, seeing Dahlia approaching him with slow but sure steps, her hands buried in her long coat’s pockets. She tilts her head to the side, a short smile on her lips. "You find yourself here with me."

Klaus' expression hardens, his eyes narrowing dangerously at her. "Dahlia," he bites out her name. She bows her head at him, appreciatively. "What have you done to me? Where is my daughter?" he demands as he pushes himself off the ground. Klaus tries to advance onto her, using his vampire speed, but she simply flickers away, vanishing out of thin air, reappearing behind him a moment later. "Get out of my head," he snarls.

"I'm not in your head. You're in mine. And seeing as you lie daggered by your own beloved brother, you have no choice but to listen. I have a proposition for you." Dahlia starts walking down the stone path, and when Klaus doesn't follow, she turns back around. "Well, come along."

He hesitates a moment further, considering his options; it doesn't seem like he has a plethora of those at his disposal. Not disguising his displeasure, Klaus walks after her. As they move down the stone path, he realizes this place seems oddly removed from time. Constructions aren't just simple, but rudimentary. In fact, some of the houses remind him a lot of his own childhood home, if not in the materials and the surroundings, at least in style.

They're in her mind, she said?

They walk for a few minutes before Klaus finally catches the sounds of chattering and activity. So far, the village appeared to be completely deserted. Dahlia stops just as they round a corner, hidden behind one of the houses. He spots what appears to be the center of this village, the common area where villagers gather around for trade and celebrations. Again, not so different from where he grew up. There's a large bonfire, the smell of food, children running around. Judging by the clothes people are wearing, this really is the past. A long and distant past.

Still, it says absolutely nothing to him.

"Spare me of the agonizing boredom and explain what it is that you want," he grumbles.

"Quiet."

"I've no use for demented dreamscapes."

"Niklaus," she says. "Listen."

Klaus sharpens his hearing beyond the laughter and the people conducting their daily chores, and he finally hears it. Swords clashing. Screaming. It doesn't take long before the sounds of war get closer, soon becoming obvious that the village is under attack. As people take off in fear, he catches sight of two women running together, hand in hand. They look strangely family... Both with long, wavy hair, one dark and one fair, with a crown of flowers on her head.

Dahlia starts following the women and Klaus joins her, curiosity piqued. The women crouch behind a cartwheel, arms wrapped tightly around each other as they whimper lowly.

"The Vikings came while you were in the garden," one of them, the blonde-haired one, whispers. "I'm scared, Dahlia."

 _Esther._ That's his mother, and this is their village. He looks at Dahlia; her eyes are fixed on the scene unfolding before them, but her face remains perfectly blank, devoid of any emotion.

"Don't be," young Dahlia replies, holding her sister's face. "I'll protect us, Esther, but come what may, we must remain together. Always and forever. Promise?"

"Promise."

The two sisters hug again, their foreheads touching as they start chanting a tune under their breaths. Doesn't seem like a spell, more like a song. Klaus can't help the stab he gets at the sound of those damned words, _always and forever_. His mother instilled it upon all her children like a sacred vow, and they've carried it with them for the past one thousand years, wielding it as both a comfort and a threat.

There's a ring of familiarity about this scene. The day they took off from their village, in what is now Mystic Falls, he, Rebekah and Elijah held hands and promised to remain together for all eternity. Klaus thought his siblings would abandon him once they learned that he wasn't like the rest of them, that the blood bonds they had with him weren't as strong. This fear has never truly dissipated; in fact, it's only grown stronger over time, ominous and all-consuming, but he remembers as though it was yesterday, the first time he felt it rise inside of him, that particular brand of darkness.

They were scared, filled with doubts and uncertainties, not yet sure of the extent of their own powers, ignorant of what they were. Guilt still ate at them, their own shadows made them cower in fright. The vow had been a consolation then - for a while, anyway. Gave them courage to run away from everything they'd ever known and start anew across the ocean.

And to think the bane of their existence started with Dahlia... Suddenly the last millennium of agony makes perfect sense. They've been cursed by those bloody words.

Klaus is pulled out of his musings as a man - a Viking, he takes - finally finds the two of them. He wraps his hands around Esther, dragging her away. She screams, her face streaked with tears as she reaches for her sister. Dahlia puts her hand forward and uses her power to send the man flying. But the distraction doesn't last for long. More men round them up, pointing their weapons at both her and Esther. Klaus sees a flicker of despair in the young woman's eyes as she realizes she could never take on so many of them at once; they'd hurt her sister if she tried. So she hasn’t always been so strong, then. Her powers just then felt a bit... green. Unpolished. Utterly useless to save them from captivity.

The men cover their heads with cloths, tying their hands quickly with rope, and then drag the two of them, kicking and screaming, away.

Klaus lets out an impatient sigh. "Let me guess. The Vikings slaughtered the entire village. How sad," he says flippantly.

"Esther and I were the only ones who survived. We promised we'd stay together," Dahlia replies. Despite her stoic expression, her voice sounds tight.

"Yes, always and forever, a familiar promise, but then you knew that. I suppose you think that makes us kindreds."

"Not exactly." Dahlia turns to him. "What I mean to show you is that we can be allies. I will tell you a story today, Niklaus. And at the end of that story, I will make you an offer. I hope, after hearing everything I have to say and learning the truth of my story, you will be ready to accept it. Trust me. You'll find it quite tempting."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Freya looks like she hasn't slept in a week.

To be perfectly honest, Elijah hasn't been sleeping all that well either. Definitely didn't get a single minute of shut-eye the previous night. Between handling Niklaus and taking care of Caroline... He cannot think about it without getting a violent lurch in his chest, his heart clenching painfully each time the memory springs to life.

_Caroline is dead._

He's doing his best to remain as level-headed as possible. It's quite a challenge; Elijah feels like a burnt-out field. Just a barren, hollowed-out shell where the only thing that echoes is pain and anger - at himself, at Niklaus, at the werewolves. But now is not the time to be consumed by heartbreak and vengeance. First, he needs to make sure his niece is secured. He owes it to Caroline.

The only reason Elijah hasn't set out after the Crescents and murdered the lot of them himself, starting with Jackson Kenner, who clearly doesn't keep his lot under proper leash if one of them would turn on a person they've been sworn to guard with their lives, is because they're in charge of protecting Eve. The last barrier between Dahlia and that little girl, in case everything else fails. If he seeks revenge now, he'll start a riot, leaving her even more vulnerable. For Caroline - for Eve - he'll wait. But only just.

Niklaus, he'll handle later.

There's much to be done. The clock is ticking fast towards Dahlia's deadline and they need to have it all figured out before then. Elijah was left with no choice but to trust Freya. He knows now that her plan involved creating a trap, rather than a single weapon, and that made him realize what, deep down, he already knew: there's always something behind Niklaus' manic painting habits. This time, he was using it to hide Mikael's ashes. Quite clever, he has to say. Not very practical, but it will do. Freya says so, anyway. They can use the paintings to mark the space where Dahlia will be rendered mortal by linking the ashes to her blood and the Norwegian soil.

If only they'd known this since the beginning...

Lies and omission will be the end of this family.

On second thought, maybe not. Niklaus will be the end of this family. He already is.

As Elijah got dressed this morning, he took a good look at himself in the mirror. Grief marred every line of his expression. He looked defeated, devastated. Had to do a better job at covering it up, rearranging his features into blankness, or as close to it as possible. Fake it 'till he makes it, that's the law of the day. He cannot allow himself to fall apart now. Too much hangs in the balance.

Despite having shown a brief moment of shock over the news of Caroline and how Niklaus has been put to sleep, Freya has barely stopped pacing since Elijah arrived at the bell tower. She's in a wild hurry, grabbing things, lighting up candles, pulling out maps. It doesn't exactly inspire a lot of confidence, but alas, a sleep-deprived, panicking older sister is all he's got.

"You need to get the baby here immediately," Freya says.

"When Dahlia has been defeated. For now, she is safe," Elijah replies evenly.

" _Nowhere_ is safe from Dahlia, and you will have no chance of ending her without that baby."

Elijah narrows his eyes at her, a pinch between his eyebrows. "What are you saying?"

"Dahlia is protected by powerful magic. We have collected items that represent her vulnerabilities, and I will use these ingredients to create a killing ground where Dahlia will be rendered mortal, but we need to lure her there, Elijah."

His stare turns sharp. "Are you suggesting that I position my niece as bait?" Freya clamps her mouth shut, swallowing audibly. "Oh, how wonderfully convenient to offer this strategy now that Niklaus has been removed," he snaps harshly, his temper quickly fraying.

"Klaus could not be reasoned with," Freya counters, as though that's enough justification. If he knew that her plan involved putting Eve in danger he would've sided with his brother from the beginning. It makes Elijah _fume_ to think that while they all thought he was behaving like a tyrannical lunatic, in truth his paranoid instincts had been right all along.

"That's not why he was put down," he replies coldly. "You can't honestly believe that I will allow you to do this."

"What I believe is, you will make the right choice for Eve," she says, exasperation biting at her voice. "There is no other way to keep her from the miserable existence I endured, one of slavery under a tyrant."

"Of course, if Dahlia dies, you will also be free of that tyranny. No more running, no more hiding. So do not insult my intelligence by painting your actions as selfless."

Freya juts her chin up, her face settling into determination. "If you will not bring the child here, I will find her myself. As I said, there is no other way."

Elijah steps up to his sister, staring her down. She flinches at the obvious darkness in his eyes, but stands her irrational, unacceptable ground.

"Freya, let me make myself very clear to you..." he starts, his voice like barbed wire. "That is a fight you don't want to start with me. You will not be victorious. I already lost Caroline. I had to put down my brother. I will not lose my niece as well."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Dahlia's tale is a truly poignant one. Or it would be, if there was any novelty to it. All the heartbreaking memories she shows him are very little compared to some of the things Esther has put her own children through over the years. Nothing compared to what he's suffered in the hands of Mikael during his entire mortal life.

Dahlia subjected herself to enslavement and abuse at the hands of the Vikings, kept prisoner for years in a shabby shack, barely allowed to see the light of day, performing all sorts of dark magic for them in exchange for her sister's safety. And while she was treated with very little courtesy, Esther enjoyed the best of the Viking hospitality, no doubt having captivated their oppressors with her radiant beauty. But while Dahlia held nothing but contempt for them, Esther found forgiveness in her heart rather easily. Didn't even mind that her sister wasn't treated with the same deference reserved to her. As self-centered as ever, Esther...

When she fell in love with Mikael, and he offered her marriage, she didn't think twice. Made but a brief announcement to Dahlia about how she intended to never practice magic again, claiming that _Mikael would protect her_. Oh, the irony... Perhaps Esther would've been better served in life if she'd stayed by her sister, after all. Perhaps the whole world would. No vampires, no hybrid bastard child, no firstborns bargained. A thousand years later, Caroline would still be alive, her life certainly made much better by having never met him. All the wheels set into motion by that one moment in time, over a thousand years in the past...

Klaus was almost curious to see what Mikael was like back then, if he made his mother so easily break her _always and forever_ vow, leaving her sister behind to wither away while she went on to live her life beside a man who'd slaughtered her entire village and enslaved her own blood. A match forged in the bowels of hell, for certain. They deserved each other. It's only a tad ironic that the rottenest fruit of that union happens to be the bastard.

The only way that story interests him at all is in how it relates to him, which he's certain is not Dahlia's purpose. When Klaus looks at her, her eyes are filled with tears as she crouches down beside her past self, holding back the urge to reach out and touch young Dahlia's face as she sobs on the floor over her sister's cruel disregard. How touching...

If that's how she intends to garner his sympathy, she'll have to do much better. Life has made him quite callous towards the plight of others, particularly that of his enemies. She seems to forget that Klaus is, after all, his parents' son.

"So Esther was cruel," he says, almost conversationally. "You'll excuse my complete lack of surprise. Seems it does run in the family."

"She left me for one of the very men who killed our entire village... Our siblings, our father... My own sister abandoned me. Just as your siblings have done you." She stands to her feet, wiping her tears away. "And like you, I have been unjustly painted as the villain of the story."

A pertinent remark. However still not compelling.

"If you have a deal to propose, then find my body and undagger me. And you better be certain that what you have to offer is indeed worthwhile, because I'm not in a charitable mood."

Dahlia frowns in question, and then, after a moment, her expression smooths out into comprehension. "That's right... The girl. The mother. Caroline, isn't it?"

Klaus' jaw tightens. "What do you know about her?"

"Nothing. Only that she's been tragically killed. I can see that you're heartbroken. Poor thing..." She clicks her tongue in a mock of mourning. Klaus has to resist the urge to attack her again. "You have my condolences. As you've seen, I know what it's like to lose someone you care about. And it seems like she was of great importance to you, which, truth be told, I wasn't expecting based on everything I heard and saw about you. The Original hybrid, ruthless, brutal, _savage_. And yet... That girl truly bulldozed her way into your infamously cold stone heart.”

"Are you quite done?" he bites out tersely.

"I am merely expressing how sorry I am for your loss, Niklaus."

"Keep your condolences to yourself. As a matter of fact, keep your sob stories, too. I don't care about learning of my mother's wrongdoings. I've had enough taste of her wickedness on my own."

"What I have to show you next is not about your mother, it's about your daughter. And if you wish to have any chance to save her from what is to come, I suggest you listen."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah didn't think anything could be more jarring than what he felt as he walked into St. Anne's Church, lured by the acrid smell of blood, to find Caroline lying lifeless in Niklaus' arms, her child spirited away to be sacrificed.

He was wrong. Somehow, the second time is even worse.

Caroline went through so much in the months following her transition. It was not gentle on her, and neither he nor Niklaus made anything easier. She endured the pains of transformation, of adapting to a whole new life, a new body, mostly by herself for such a long time, and still she came out the other end stronger, braver, and just as luminous as ever.

Selflessly, she let go of all the resentment she harbored over the months she spent watching after herself, spending nights in the Bayou, hunting animals and trying to learn how to cope. She had every right to stay angry and yet she didn't. Not for her own sake, certainly, but for theirs. Caroline loved them in spite of all the hurt and the suffering their family caused her. She loved Niklaus so blindly, so wholly, she believed there was goodness in him even in his darkest hour. And she loved Elijah, too, through frosty silences and ill-feigned indifference when he cast her away thinking that he was helping her when, in truth, he was just hurting the person he most wanted to protect. She saved Gia's life. And now, for the second time, Elijah couldn't save hers.

They were granted a precious second chance to do right by her and they failed miserably. Again. Caroline and her daughter became the heart of their ghastly, doomed family, and they neglected her. Niklaus' selfishness and irrational behavior caused this. And Elijah didn’t fare much better… He allowed her to go outside on her own, knowing full well that none of them were safe anymore. He never thought one of Jackson's wolves would want to hurt her. The ungrateful bastards... Elijah will make them pay for it. But no amount of righteous revenge will ever be enough to atone for their own mistakes or ease away the pain in their hearts. This is something they will have to carry with them into eternity.

They never deserved her, that is the simple truth. She was too good for them, too bright for their sordid world. They are cursed creatures, fated to spend eternity under the cover of darkness, while Caroline was made to shine. She paid the price, yet again, for the most unforgiving of crimes: loving a Mikaelson, and being loved by them.

They won't even be able to give her a proper burial, not for a while. Not until this is all over. Elijah refuses to just dig up a grave and lower her into the ground. Especially in New Orleans. He's certain she would want to be buried in Mystic Falls, surrounded by the people who have loved her in many different ways and for far longer than either himself or his brother.

What is he going to tell her mother? Elizabeth Forbes doesn't even know her daughter died once before, and came back as a vampire. How is he going to explain that she got caught up in the crossfire of the Mikaelsons' devastating ties - _again_?

Elijah hopes he can take Eve to meet her grandmother. It will hardly soothe Sheriff Forbes’ pain, but she will, at the very least, still have a connection to her daughter, a little piece of Caroline left on this cruel earth.

It'll be probably better for Eve if she stays with her mother's family, too. It'll crush Elijah's heart to let her go, and she'll be eternally in his thoughts, but until he figures out what to do about her father, she should be raised in a real home, with a caring grandmother, surrounded by nothing but love and affection, rather than centuries-old grudges and bitterness, in the arms of a fractured family. If they're granted a chance to do right by Eve, they shouldn't make the same mistake they made with Caroline. If Niklaus has a shred of reason left in that deranged head of his, then he will agree with Elijah, if he doesn't want to lose his daughter as well as her mother.

Elijah can't even bear to think of his brother right now. It makes him shake with anger. It was his paranoia and his selfishness that brought this upon them, his refusal to put a leash on his rabid instincts, if not for his own sake, then for that of the people closest to him. If only Elijah had listened to Caroline when she alerted him that Niklaus was going down a dangerous path... He's just as much at fault for this. Elijah always knew the atrocities his brother was capable of, he just didn't think he'd ever do anything that could pose a threat to Caroline. He was wrong.

Elijah should've learned by now never to underestimate the destructive power of Niklaus' self-centeredness. It was how he lost Celeste, all those centuries ago. It's how he loses Caroline now. He won't allow it to be how he loses his niece as well. Even if he was right to remain wary of Freya after all, he was still a liability, the way he'd been acting, the things he did.

"Elijah?"

He is startled out of his thoughts by Camille, poking her head into the ballroom, a large box in her hands. She frowns when she sees the casket. "Well, that isn't creepy at all."

Elijah wipes the misery off his face as he turns towards the bartender turned vampire therapist. He hasn't told her about Caroline yet.

"Did you bring the things I asked?" he queries, all politeness.

"Yes. Dark objects. Apparently, I'm a dispensary now," she replies, though her voice lacks bite. It took no more than fifteen minutes after Elijah called for her to walk through the front gates of the compound, a hurried skip in her step, curiosity shining through the green of her eyes. If Elijah made a dollar for each time he's seen similar behavior in above-reproach citizens who happened to cross paths with his family over the years...

Camille acts like she doesn't want to be a part of this world, but Elijah sees right through her veneer. Humans... Even the most adamant and virtuous of them dream of being swept away by something larger than themselves. The supernatural is far too tempting. It would be so easy for her to simply leave New Orleans and move on with her life elsewhere. She's a bartender, her family is all gone, there's absolutely nothing holding her back - nothing except for the allure of darkness. It speaks to her far more than she allows herself to admit, even if she's still testy over how Niklaus managed her before.

Given the current circumstances, Elijah feels oddly protective of her. Camille reminds him too much of Caroline. Her drive, her courage, her loyalty to her friends. Having friends in high places in their world, however, is proven to be no guarantee of safety. Sometimes, that's the very thing that dooms you. If she doesn't step away now, his family will be the end of her as well.

"This should do," he says, taking the box from her and inspecting the items inside. He can't even begin to imagine what some of those things are for, but he can feel the bite of its magic just by touching it. It's all he needs at the moment.

"Elijah." He snaps his head up to see Rebekah walking in, followed closely by Vincent Griffith. Just what he was expecting. She had been working with him at St. James' Infirmary, but Elijah requested her to bring him to the compound, although he didn't expand on the reasons.

In order to get this to work, he needs a powerful witch, and he's unfortunately short on those at the present moment.

"Woah, man," Vincent says, stopping dead on his tracks when he sees the casket and Elijah. "What is this? I thought I told you I was only going to help unlink you from those kids," he speaks to Rebekah.

It's so strange... Elijah got used to seeing Finn when he looked at that man, his brother's mannerisms, his tenor, the flair of righteous superiority. Now they don't even sound the same. The expressions are different, the look in his eyes. Vincent Griffith is not without his own skeletons in the closet, but it's so easy to tell the difference.

"I'm afraid we have more pressing concerns," he speaks slowly, putting down the box.

"What's all this?" Rebekah asks, head bobbing towards the box.

"Dark objects," Camille provides, eyes cutting to Elijah. "I would also like to know what you intend to use them for."

"It seems Niklaus' distrust of Freya was not entirely misplaced," he explains. "Our sister wants to use Eve to lure Dahlia into a trap. She's trying on locator spells to find her and Jackson as we speak."

"And I assume you told her she's out of her lunatic mind," Rebekah slams, a snipe in her voice.

"I have another idea. Eve is something of a beacon for this new terror, and now that she's been cloaked, perhaps we could use something else to ensnare Dahlia. These enchanted objects should generate enough power to create a decoy of some kind." While he unravels his plan, Vincent turns quietly on his heels and starts walking out of the room. Elijah fixes his steely gaze on him. "Mr. Griffith. Where do you think you're going?"

"I agreed to help Rebekah break her bond with the eight kids," he says. "When you wanna get back to that, text me."

Elijah flashes over to him, blocking his way. "Right now, I need the best minds and the most formidable witches in this city, and unfortunately, one of those..." His eyes dart quickly towards the casket. He pauses, swallowing, and then focuses back on Vincent. "Is no longer with us. Mr. Griffith, do you have any idea the danger my niece now faces?"

"I wish her well, man, I really do, but I'm done with magic. I was done with it before, I am _definitely_ not going back to it now. This ain't my fight. Sorry."

Elijah's face twists with anger. In a blink, he has his hand around Vincent's throat, slamming him back against the wall, lifting him off the ground. This man has no idea how _desperate_ Elijah is for some violence. He may not have Niklaus' ungovernable appetite, but it does not mean he won't lose his grip over his restraint under the right - or very wrong - set of circumstances, which just happens to be what they're in right now. Just give him an excuse to lash out -

"Elijah, it's not worth it," Camille says, her pleading voice cutting through his murderous intent.

"I'll call Davina. I'm sure she'll help," Rebekah placates.

He hesitates a second longer before putting Vincent down. The man looks at him with nothing but contempt, then shakes his head and storms out. One less friendly face in New Orleans.

Rebekah steps out to make a phone call as he attempts to regain his poise. Each time he gets close to losing it, it's harder to reel his emotions back in.

Camille steps up to him, arms crossed over her chest and a question in her eyes. "You said one of the best minds is no longer with us. Who's in the coffin?" Elijah' eyes flicker away, down. "Elijah," she prods, insistent. "Who's in the coffin?"

He lets out a heavy, wounded sigh. "Caroline."

Camille's eyes widen, but she blinks at him with confusion. "What? But she's not... I mean, she can't be... Is she...?"

"She was murdered last night."

The woman gasps, covering her mouth with a hand. Her eyes immediately fill with water, and the shadow that descends upon her is simply too much for Elijah to bear.

“Oh, God... Oh my God..." She walks over to the coffin with unsteady steps, touching it with shaking hands. "Tell me you're going to bring her back. Tell me that you can," she says in a small, quivery voice. "She's not _gone_ , gone. She can't be." Camille breaks down, and that's as much as he can take.

The sound of her sobs rattles away inside his head as Elijah jets out of the room.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Biting wind cuts through the forest, creating a storm of dust and fallen leaves. Black birds rain down from the sky, limp bodies exploding into a gory mix of feathers and blood as they hit the ground like missiles.

And in the midst of all that, an unhinged, frantic Freya, unable to control her own power. In a fit of rage over being kept isolated in the deep woods, she loses what flimsy command she had over it, and causes quite the destruction.

Dahlia rushes over to her, unsettled with concern, and comforts her, humming that annoying little tune in Freya's ears until she calms down in her aunt's arms.

This is more unexpected than Esther's betrayal, Klaus has to say. Based on what Freya has shared, he would think that Dahlia’s treatment of her had been worse than the way Mikael treated him. In fact, the evil witch was... Rather motherly.

She could've stricken Freya, used her own powers against her. Mikael would've given any child of his throwing such tantrum a scar. Instead, Dahlia offered the comfort of an embrace. If this had been the sort of abuse Klaus had been subjected to growing up, he might've not turned out so bad. Although he can see how he would've certainly rebelled after being kept as a valuable power outlet, locked away and put to sleep for a century at a time, refused the right to do what he wanted for all eternity. He's beyond himself with anger right now and this is only the first time one of his siblings manages to successfully dagger him. Perspective and all that.

"What is this?" he asks. "Do you think you'll amass support by showing me your _motherly_ skills? Is this supposed to make me, what? Trust you with my daughter's upbringing?"

"You've completely missed the point, my darling boy. That is not at all what I was trying to show you." Dahlia motions towards where her past self and Freya are still huddled together on the ground, his sister wracked with sobs while Dahlia gently caresses her back. "Firstborns in this family possess devastating power."

He arches an unimpressed eyebrow at her. "You're saying this is what's to come for Eve."

"Eve will suffer far more than Freya. Her magic will be tainted with your vampire blood as well as the aggressive wolf temperament. Without the proper tutelage that only I can provide, Eve's power will grow unchecked. She will lash out at everyone, including you. You saw what Freya did here. How do you think that would pan out in a city? At your beautiful home in the French Quarter? She will devastate the place that you love so much and then her terror will spread far beyond. I, too, am a firstborn, so I was the only one to help save Freya from herself, just as I'm the only one who can save your daughter."

"She takes her witchcraft from her mother. How can you even know it'll be the same?"

"She's still of your blood, and as such, she's cursed all the same. You've seen it. You need me. She will be a creature of magnificent power, but she will need guidance if she is to hone these abilities. _My_ guidance."

He sneers. "You're completely delusional. You don't think _I_ can take care of my own daughter? May I remind you that I am myself a creature of magnificent, unique power?"

"Not like hers. You have strength and agility, resilience, venom in your fangs. Eve will have all that, and far more. She is something this world has never seen before, Niklaus."

"I think I'll find someone less hostile to teach her. Shouldn't be difficult. Practically anyone would fit the criteria," he says with a snide little smile.

"Will you be interviewing tutors while you lie desiccated? How long, do you think, before Elijah and Rebekah release you? How old will Eve be?"

Klaus' smile turns sour, and then it slides off his face. "So after twice failing to create a family of your own, now you wish to commandeer mine? Let me be very clear, sweetheart: not gonna happen."

"Family?" Dahlia asks, her lips twisting with disgust. "Family only ever brought me pain. I want power. I am owed Eve's, and without it, I will slumber again within the year."

"Oh, how tragic."

Dahlia steps up to him, fixing Klaus under a sharp, unflinching stare, her dark eyes burning into his like pitless holes. Klaus cocks his head and stands his ground, even as he gets an uncomfortable and unfamiliar chill down his spine. It's not every day he comes face to face with a truly formidable enemy - and one who clearly holds the upper hand. Still, Klaus will be damned if he allows himself to be intimidated.

"Freya turned on me because I denied her a basic need," Dahlia starts slowly. "The love of a parent. That is why I have come to you, Niklaus. I want you to remain her father." Klaus slits his eyes at her. Perhaps reading the suspicion on his face, she plows on. "Try to imagine this. You will get to raise your daughter, I will channel the magic that has been promised to me, and in doing so, I will help Eve to hone her craft in a way that you couldn't comprehend. With us by your side, no one would ever test you again, murder your loved ones... Or you could lie there and pray that Elijah releases you before Eve learns to call Jackson daddy." Klaus bristles with fiery indignation, squaring his shoulders at the mention of that man. Dahlia shrugs. "By all means, think it over. But know this. I shall not ask twice."

"Is this your great, tempting offer?" he bites out at her. "To let me visit on the weekends while you brainwash my daughter and turn her into one of your minions?"

"Oh, be objective, Niklaus. You would know she was being well cared for, well trained, all the while keeping the love of her parents. A father... And a mother."

Klaus freezes, his heart stumbling over a beat. "What?"

Dahlia's lips curl into a self-satisfied smile. "I can bring Caroline back to life."

"You're lying," he snaps, true anger flaring up inside him. "I will not listen to any more of your nonsense. Get me out of here!"

"It's not nonsense, Niklaus," Dahlia offers easily. "At the moment, I hold her soul in my power, keeping her from crossing over. As soon as I let her go, she will be a part of the other supernatural plan, from where she will not return to the world of the living. Instead of letting her go, however... I can simply put her back into her body."

"You don't have that kind of power," Klaus says, a desperate edge of hope thrumming in his voice even as he tries to quench it down.

"Don't I? Everything you've seen - this, right here - and you still doubt the extent of my abilities? You've had but a taste of it, Niklaus. A small demonstration of what I can do. When I give my word, I keep it. I am telling you now, I can revive Caroline. All you have to do... Is take my offer."

"In my experience, an offer from a malevolent witch always comes with a catch. What's yours?"

"For starters, you will have to promise that you can manage the mother. She might have something against our plans. It'll be up to you to convince her that you made the right choice for your daughter."

"And?"

"And I will only return her to life once I have Eve. That is my final offer. You can have your whole family, or you can have no one. I will take Eve, with or without you. I think I'm being quite generous. I'm sure you'll consider it with care. But do not take too long. Souls are a tricky thing... So easily corruptible when out of a body..."

Dahlia blows a powder in his face, and Klaus feels himself being pulled violently into darkness, his mind spinning as though he'd been sucked in by a hurricane. And then it all stops. His eyes fly open with a breathless gasp, cold falling over him like a cloak, his whole body trembling. The dull, distant pain in his chest becomes sharp and intense.

With effort, Klaus manages to lift a hand. His fingers close around the hilt of the dagger buried in his heart, grunting loudly as the ache doubles. He takes a quivery breath in and braces himself, using every ounce of strength he can gather to pull the dagger out. When he does, air finally fills his lungs again, his muscles relaxing as though released from a tight bind.

His senses begin to sharpen, vision returning focus as the pain dwindles, however slowly. In its wake comes a ferocious hunger.

With torturing effort, Klaus pulls himself into a sitting position, realizing he'd been put into a casket, although, for whatever reason, the lid was open. Maybe so that Elijah and Rebekah could revel at the sight of their once formidable brother lying powerless and desiccated, completely at their mercy. Traitors, all of them...

They will pay him tenfold for what they've done.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Think like Niklaus.

That is what Elijah has to do now. Delve into his brother's deranged mind and think like him. With Niklaus down, their best weapon against Dahlia has been removed from the game, so it is now up to Elijah to fill in his shoes and do as he would.

As much as it pains him to admit it, only someone with Klaus' malice and twisted ways would know how to face someone as vicious as himself. The truth is they need him, and Elijah has already been made to regret some of the doubt he cast upon his brother, most notably regarding Freya. But he'd rather not remove the dagger and unleash that Shakespearean rage until they know for certain that Eve is safe. It'll cause them more trouble than anything else. They can only face one gargantuan problem at a time. So Dahlia first. Niklaus - _perhaps_ \- later.

Elijah went to see Freya once more, just as she'd finally managed to locate Jackson. Apparently he hadn't been hiding himself well enough. Elijah took the map where she'd marked the approximate location of the pack and sent her to the compound instead, revealing that Niklaus had mixed their father's ashes in ink and used it to paint some abstract and rather angry-looking pictures. She should go ahead and prepare the spell while he would go out to retrieve the child. The wolves would be more welcoming to him and he would do it infinitely faster. She obliged.

His real plans, however, are slightly different.

He's just about approaching the area when someone shoots an arrow at him. Elijah grabs it with a hand, just as an axe comes flying towards his face. They have good aim, these wolves, just not enough speed. Elijah grabs the axe's hilt just as the blade was about to sink into his forehead. That would've been mighty unpleasant.

"Children... Please," he says, giving a look to the wolves aiming their crossbows at him.

"Elijah," Jackson says grimly as he steps out in front of his men - pointedly, Elijah notices, not telling them to put down their weapons. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see my niece."

Jackson shakes his head. "Not gonna happen."

Elijah narrows his eyes at the Crescent alpha. "Excuse me?"

"One bite from us, there's venom in your blood. Hard to find anything in these woods when your head's not right."

"Are you going to attack me, Jackson?"

"That depends. Will I have to?"

Elijah's expression grows dark. "I helped you escape."

"Yeah. Thanks for that. But you're not taking that child from where her mother intends her to be."

He lets out an impatient sigh. This is a foolish waste of his time, but Elijah will beat that smugness of that man's face if he must. And he can't say he won't enjoy it. "As I understand, you didn't fare well against my brother."

"There's a difference between you and Klaus."

"Oh? Do tell."

"You won't kill me. If you do, you know Caroline won't ever forgive you. Klaus will do whatever he wants and regret it later. You won't." Irritation rears its head with a vengeance inside of Elijah. The fact Jackson is right only makes it worse. It also makes his desire to punch his country prince charming face grow exponentially. He's playing with fire now. "Speaking of her..." Jackson continues, in a more serious tone, before Elijah's fraying temper can win the battle of wills against the reasonable side of him. "I haven't heard from Caroline since we left. She was supposed to call. Where is she?"

Just like that, Elijah's blazing anger dissolves into sadness. He flickers his eyes away from Jackson, reminded with painful acuity that Caroline's murderer could be here, right now. As much as he wishes to put the perpetrator or perpetrators to justice, he has a feeling that if he tells Jackson the truth right now, he'll be starting a riot. Everything will be put at risk, and his niece still needs their protection. Hopefully not for much longer.

"She is... Busy," he says, his voice strained. "Trying to keep her daughter safe. We have a new plan. Rebekah and Davina have found a way. If we can replicate Eve's magic, we can lure Dahlia into a trap, after which I will kill her myself. All I need is a vial of her blood."

"Why isn't Caroline requesting that herself?"

"Believe me, Jackson, I wish she was. Unfortunately, that's not possible at the moment, and I'm the one in charge of coming to you. Seeing as I aided in your escape, no one thought we'd have a problem. I will not take my niece with me now; I will entrust her safety to you while we finish Dahlia. But I need her blood."

Jackson regards him pensively for a second, clearly still in doubt. "All right," he finally concedes after a moment. "I'll let you take her blood. But have Caroline call me as soon as she can."

He flinches inwardly, but keeps his stoicism untouched. "I will."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah comes back to the compound to find Freya immersed in her spells. She has spread Niklaus' paintings across the courtyard and is chanting whilst she burns some herbs. When he approaches, she stops.

"Once the spell is set, Dahlia won't be able to enter this space without being rendered mortal," she says, turning around to face him, her eyes flashing when she realizes he has come alone. "Where's the child, Elijah?"

"If we use her power to lure Dahlia, swear to me that Eve will come to no harm."

"Dahlia won't get close enough to hurt her. She won't be able to hurt any child ever again."

Elijah nods solemnly. Then he lunges at Freya in a blur, stabbing her with a needle. She gasps, more scared than in pain, her eyes widening at him as she stumbles back with a horrified look on her face.

"I hope what you just said is true," he says evenly. "You are now the bait."

Freya's face crumples up as though she's about to cry. "What did you do to me?!"

Elijah pins her under a rather cold stare, feeling betrayed himself. Freya kept from him her plan to use Eve as bait because she knew he would never go against Niklaus if he'd known. That is where all the conflict with his brother started. Nothing guarantees Niklaus wouldn't have acted out anyway, but perhaps if their family had remained more united from the beginning things could've turned out differently. Caroline might still be alive.

This is nothing more than pay back. Freya is delusional if she thought, for even a second, that Elijah would ever allow for her grudges and lust for revenge to take precedence over Eve's safety. He is showing his older sister the same esteem she has shown him.

"Eve's blood is now in you. Therefore, when Dahlia comes looking for her, since Eve has been cloaked, she will find you. All we needed was a beating heart, and though I question the purity of your heart's intent, I hear it beating just fine."

"No..." she breathes out, exasperated. "If Dahlia senses a ruse -"

"Rebekah assures me that this will work, and I trust her far more than I trust you."

"I am not your enemy, Elijah!" Freya roars at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

"That is what we shall see. If your intentions are pure, then you have nothing to fear. Proceed with your preparations."

Elijah turns on his heels and leaves Freya to do her thing. If she needed any more incentive in order to do her best work... Well, now she's got it.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus had no idea how tormenting being daggered could be. Or worse yet... Being _un_ daggered.

Not that it softens his sympathies towards his siblings. It just makes him all the more annoyed at his own frailty. Klaus is terribly famished, and so very weak, like his body isn't entirely his own. As though he's only half-alive. Even dragging himself down the stairs is torture. He has to stop several times, catch his breath, shut his eyes against the dizziness.

He isn't entirely sure where he's going, not being able to guide himself by his severely impaired senses. He tries to stay in the shadows, rather than cross the courtyard. He finds no one in his path, which is a nuisance. He didn't want to run into Elijah or Rebekah, but maybe finding one or two of those wolves would've come in handy, though he hardly thinks two will be enough to satiate the pitless well in his stomach. Klaus could eat an army.

Without paying much attention, he makes his way to the ballroom. Deserted, as the rest of the house, at least on first glance. He's not alone in there. When he looks down from the mezzanine, Klaus sees a coffin right beneath him. It's quite beautiful, all in white, with golden details, not unlike the one he had made for Rebekah. But this one lacks the Mikaelson _M_ , which means it's new.

His heart gives a violent lurch, cold and sharp pain overwhelming even the hunger.

Klaus mashes his eyes shut against the tears prickling behind his eyelids, biting down on the angry howl attempting to claw its way out.

Slowly, he staggers his way over to it, touching the lid with shaky hands before he finally gathers the courage to pull it open.

It's exactly like his nightmare.

An anguished sob escapes Klaus' lips. Caroline looks beautiful, her expression perfectly peaceful even as her skin looks grey and her veins have all darkened as they dried.

Someone changed her out of her bloodied clothes, put her in a black dress. She’s still wearing the necklace he gave her, though, with the moss agate.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispers to her, his voice more than a little shaky.

Klaus touches her face, the inhuman coolness of her skin stabbing him like a thousand needles. It feels like a million years ago that he was last with her, that he last felt the warmth of her lips against his, the softness of her hands. She was crying. Upset. And rightfully so. He so hates himself right now for that... How he spoke to her during that fight at the jazz club. How he took the blame for Aiden's murder, the disappointment he caused her... How even as he proclaimed his love, he sounded angry. He's been nothing but angry lately, and she fell victim of his sourness and explosive temper.

His light, his world... Gone.

Everything sounds so eerily quiet without Caroline's heartbeat to give it life.

"I will get you back. If it's the last thing I do. You will return to me." Klaus leans over her body, placing a long kiss on her forehead. "I love you. Don't forget that."

With a heavy ache, he closes her casket and then leaves the house, determination suddenly renewed. His all-consuming grief has made the hunger a second thought for now; if it doesn't make him moving across the French Quarter easier, it at least keeps him on his path, instead of taking detours to feed.

There's someone he needs to see first.

He feels a breath away from dropping dead when he finally finds Dahlia, barely able to stand on his feet any longer. She's conveniently at the tomb where he kept his mother prisoner, before Freya came and murdered her in a rampant, seeking revenge. Klaus has no idea how he knew she would be there, but something in his guts told him where to go. He simply followed.

The witch is amid a spell, and a nasty one, by the looks of it. She's mixing blood in a bowl with her hands, chanting under her breath. Sacrificial magic. Wherever she got that blood from, he doesn't know, but it makes him sick rather than craving.

"I knew you were the smartest of your siblings," she speaks, not opening her eyes. "No brute Viking blood in those veins. I'm glad to see you made the right decision."

Klaus swallows, his throat dry as a desert, his voice hoarse and weak. "Do you promise that Caroline will be brought back to life, just as she was? No tricks."

"No tricks."

Klaus looks away from Dahlia, considering what he's about to say. She showed him her past, and in doing so, she revealed more of her truths than she probably wished to. It's dangerous, what he's about to do... But it's also the only way. And it might just grant him the chance to seek the pay back he deserves from the people who have betrayed him.

It’s not his goal. Not primarily. All that matters is that Eve stays safe and Caroline is brought back to him. The rest is mere collateral.

"You should know... The rest of my family will stand against us, even if they care for Caroline. They won't accept my decision."

"We will have to go through them." Dahlia tilts her head, looking at him with a question. "Are you prepared for that?"

"They have more than earned everything that is to come." Klaus loses his balance, sinking to the ground beside the witch. "We need to hurry. Even now, that werewolf attempts to flee our reach with my daughter."

Dahlia grins. "Don't worry. He won't go far tonight."

As she continues to mix her bowl, thunders begin to rage outside, announcing a storm.

It's on.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're into a bit of soundtrack, the song I envision for the final scene, when Klaus sees Caroline's body in the coffin, is [The Other Side by Ruelle](https://open.spotify.com/track/69El8bwwxvL6MKfDCwdRHR?si=b2T1hdaCSFmmYKzBj1UDYg%22), it's where the lyrics at the top are from.
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, I would love to know! Drop me a line or share your thoughts and opinions! :) And thanks so much for reading!


	21. S02E21 Fire With Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my dudes! This chapter is kind of a big deal in the grand scheme of things! I'll talk more about it on the bottom notes, but this very much is the culmination of the main thread of the story: Klaus' downward spiral. Hope you guys enjoy it and that all the changes and modifications I have made to the heart of the show so far kind of pay off and make sense here. 
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you reading and commenting! ❤️ As always, your feedback is much appreciated. It's truly what has kept me writing this, and I cannot believe I have made it this far. For a while there, I didn't think I would lol. So thank you! Your comments truly make this fic writer very happy!

* * *

_ I am the wolf in your darkest room  
And I just want to taste you on my teeth  
I'm clawing at your neck to feed my needs  
You thought you found my limit  
But you don't seem to know,  
How far I'd go _

* * *

Thunder and lightning crash mercilessly outside, announcing the deluge that is about to befall them. It didn't seem like they'd be having rain any time soon in New Orleans, and now the storm of the century looms over their heads with a menace.

Something about this doesn't rub Elijah right. This is no ordinary thunderstorm. Someone has called upon this weather, and he has a feeling he knows exactly who. And why.

Dahlia is trying to find Eve. She already knows they've abandoned St. James' Infirmary, might even know who took her and where. This must be a ploy to slow Jackson down, keep him from disappearing with the child into the deep Bayou. A storm like this in the Bayou will make the place impossible to navigate. It will hinder the wolves' progress, forcing them to stop and take shelter - and, more importantly, remain trapped for as long as the storm persists.

They'll only have one chance to stop Dahlia; if they fail, it'll be a matter of time before she finds Eve.

He's staring out the window when the first raindrops hit. In seconds, it's a downpour, and the street is taken with chaos as people run to find cover. Soon enough Elijah can barely see the ground outside, the silver curtain of water blurring everything out.

Behind him, Freya is completing her linking spell, chanting while she waves her hands on top of a bowl, burning her herbs. It smells awful; Elijah doesn't even want to ask.

She is still clearly cross with him, but not in a position to argue anymore. Stakes have been raised considerably for her, so she can either stick to their side and finish what she started or risk annihilation. At least with them, she has a good chance of escaping unscathed, and Elijah will do everything in his power to ensure that no true harm comes her way. As long as she doesn't try to pull anything on Eve, they have an understanding, and he will keep his word.

It's not that he  _ wants _ anything bad to happen to his sister. She just... Found the family at the wrong time. Right now, he'd sacrifice just about anything for his niece, even his own life. Niklaus is daggered proof of that.

"It's done!" Rebekah announces as she marches into the room with Marcel on her heels. "I'm delinked from those children. The covens are most grateful and we even beat the rain coming here."

"I trust Davina will play her part," Elijah says.

"Yeah, against my better judgement," Marcel grumbles moodily.

"Stop being so overprotective," Rebekah tells him.

"Make Davina regent to the nine covens, the very covens that did nothing but torture and punish her? This is no job for a teenager. The ancestors wanted Vincent, he should just take the position and mentor Davina if he's so certain she's the one to do it, not leave it on her lap and scramble off," Marcel retorts.

That's right. Elijah has been only marginally following the witches' debacle over who's to rule the nine covens now that their former matriarch, Josephine, is gone. Apparently Vincent was the chosen one, but he was quick to turn the job offer down, determined not to dabble in magic anymore.

One day, if they make it through this mess, Elijah would like to understand the story there. Josephine told him Vincent was one of the most powerful witches among them, incredibly talented. Until one day, he simply... Gave it all up. Right about the time his wife, Eva, was sent to the Fauline Cottage. Maybe he was just that heartbroken that he'd give up on everything he is in an attempt to rid himself of all the feelings he still had for her; not unheard of. In Elijah's experience, however, powerful creatures don't usually just let go of that which makes them superior so easily. There might be more to Vincent Griffith's story than it meets the eye. He just cannot afford the time to figure it out now. Or even to pay attention to the intricacies of witch caucuses.

All he knows is that Vincent pushed Davina towards taking control, despite her young age and general inexperience, not to mention the fact she has no shortage of detractors even among her own people. Davina deflected them for a year, nearly caused the extinction of their coven, was punished by the ancestors for it, aligned herself with her coven's enemies and then forsake them altogether in order to run solo. And now she comes back with a crown on her head, wanting to rule over them.

Marcel's concern is not misplaced. He has genuine reason to fear the worst. Those witches are treacherous, and they've recently had a taste of what happens when someone suddenly walks into the French Quarter, claiming the throne for themself. They’re unlikely to welcome Davina Claire, the friend of vampires, with open arms.

"If Davina is regent, she'll be granted the power to resurrect Kol and the political clout to connect the witches to our cause," Rebekah reasons.

"Don't pop the champagne just yet," Marcel says. "Dahlia said she'd come for the baby and now a storm springs up out of nowhere. You really think that's a coincidence?"

Well, someone else seems to have picked up on the dissonance of a sudden storm.

"Regardless of her power, she needs to be dealt with. Fortunately... We have a weapon," Elijah says, looking at Freya. His sister has stopped her spell and is staring darkly at him.

"Look, no offense, but are we really gonna put all our eggs into the one still kind of mysterious basket?" Marcel questions.

"I assure you I am quite motivated to aid in Dahlia's defeat, particularly now that Elijah has forced me to be the bait," Freya retorts curtly.

Elijah remains unburdened. "And if we should fail, Davina and the witches will take up the task, at the very least distracting Dahlia long enough for Jackson and Eve to disappear."

"Elijah!" Rebekah says urgently. She moved to shut down the windows, with the rain getting even worse outside. He steps over to her and sees a bloodied mark on the glass. Blood stains aren't exactly a novelty in their house, but this one looks fresh.

He exchanges a swift look with Rebekah, and sees in his sister's eyes that she's having the exact same dreadful thought he is.

Elijah flashes out of the room and to Niklaus' studio, where they left his casket. It's still there, still in one piece. Except it’s now empty. Neither Niklaus nor the dagger are anywhere in sight.

A cold chill runs down Elijah’s body.

"Oh no..." Rebekah exclaims as she appears by the door. "Where the hell did Nik go?"

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Klaus lets the body slip from his fingers, hitting the ground with a damp thud. He licks his lips, relishing the marvelous sensation of fulfillment. He feels warm even with his clothes completely sodden, heavy rain hammering down on him.

That's the tenth body he's drained, the other nine lined in a row along the alley, punctured necks and very little blood left in their systems. All dead. It was Dahlia's peace gift. She bewitched a few tourists to follow her into a deserted alley and remain quiet as Klaus made his way through them. He was so famished it didn't take him twenty minutes to finish them all off.

It'd been ages since he'd last feasted like this. The taste of warm, pulsing blood coating his mouth is unlike anything else; it buzzes through him, the thrill of it shooting across his body like electricity. He's had ten, but he could easily have more.

In a distant corner of his skull, a little voice tells him Caroline would be horrified to see what he's done, all those bodies lined up like this, while Dahlia watches appreciatively. But Caroline is no longer here. And if he is to rectify that, he must have his energies fully replenished.

She can blame his lawless and self-indulgent behavior on Elijah and his treachery when she is returned to life.

"Have you had your fill?" the witch asks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Indeed." Klaus rises to his feet. He throws his head back, closing his eyes under the raging storm, washing away the pungent scent of blood in the air. _ Fresh. _ Klaus feels reborn. “I'm beginning to feel like my old self again."

"Good." Dahlia takes a step closer, smiling from under her umbrella. "Shall we begin?"

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"Until Niklaus is found, Marcel and his men will scour the city," Elijah is saying as he crosses the courtyard in purposeful steps. Rebekah does her best to keep up, but mortal bodies are not quite built to follow Original vampires in terrible hurry.

The two of them have turned the compound inside out. Aside from a couple of blood stains here and there, not a sign of Nik anywhere. He simply vanished. But that's just impossible, because they can't just wake up from those daggers. If there was a way for that to happen, Rebekah would've figured it out, having spent such long stints under their effects. Unless Kol somehow screwed up, which she doubts,  _ someone _ broke into their home and freed Nik - and not out of the kindness of their heart, for certain.

Somehow, Rebekah feels more at peril now, with Nik on the loose, than she was before, under the looming threat of Dahlia. His rage will be of biblical proportions.

Right this second, however, what she likes even less is the idea of Marcel being the one on the hunt.

"Assuming Nik doesn't slaughter all of them," she bites back. "You know as well as I do he'll be on a warpath, which again raises the question: how in the hell is he even awake?"

"It was Dahlia." Both Rebekah and Elijah stop dead on their tracks just as they're about to go up the stairs. Freya walks up to them with what is a rather unsuitable calm expression on her face, considering the disaster movie that's about to befall them. "Can't you see? This was all part of her plan. No doubt she's orchestrated this whole thing: Aiden's death, the blame falling on Klaus, the family dividing, retribution from the werewolves, someone he cared for getting hurt... All so she could win Klaus to her cause."

"That's absurd," Rebekah protests. Absolutely nothing about what she just said makes sense; Nik owned up to Aiden's murder, and Dahlia couldn't have possibly predicted Caroline's death. It's unimaginable that the wolves would turn on her for something Nik did. But what actually jumps to Rebekah's attention first and foremost, the assumption that makes her bristle with indignation, is the final one. "Nik would never align himself with Dahlia."

"You continue to defend him."

"He would kill anyone who tried to take his daughter."

"Wasn't it Caroline who allowed Jackson to take his daughter?"

" _ Their _ daughter," Elijah rectifies, stepping forward, a grim expression on his face. "And I would recommend that you abstain yourself from talking about Caroline, lest we forget that Dahlia is the true enemy here."

A sour little smile creeps onto Freya's lips. "How good, then, that I finished my spell. The ingredients in the paint of his artwork combined with my blood will render Dahlia vulnerable. The moment she passes between these paintings," she says, pointing towards three of Nik's works, which she has placed on opposite sides of the courtyard. "She will be mortal. You can kill her using this." Freya retrieves a knife from her jacket pocket, handing it over to Elijah.

He blinks up at her. "Father's knife."

She shrugs lightly. "I thought it appropriate."

Elijah opens his mouth as though he's about to say something, but then his expression changes, a line showing between his eyebrows as he clamps his lips back shut. "We have a visitor," he states, flashing away from them.

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Brilliant. Just what he needed. Gia showing up uninvited at what is likely to become the most dangerous place in the city in a matter of hours. Between Dahlia and Niklaus, it's doubtful their home will still be standing by the end of the day. Which means she must remain as far away from here as possible. In fact, it would be better if she were to leave town altogether.

"You shouldn't be here," he tells her darkly, trying not to let the spark in his heart take effect.

He hasn't seen her in a while. She's called and texted a few times, but Elijah simply didn't answer. There was too much going on and after the incident with Eva Sinclair, he became sorely aware of just how much danger he was putting Gia in just by being with her. Dahlia started possessing the people closest to them - Jackson, then Josephine - and it made Elijah slightly paranoid to think that she could end up as one of her errand boys.

He felt terribly guilty over ghosting her, but it seemed like the most effective manner to keep her away. Gia is proud, she wouldn't take it nicely to being ignored. He can see it in her eyes, even now, that she resents him. Elijah does not regret his decision, especially in light of what happened to Caroline, but seeing her here, he just... Misses her. Much more than he expected to.

"Marcel told me about Josephine," she says, curtly. "I want to know who we need to kill."

"We don't need to kill anyone. Leave here now, please." He tries to pull her with him back towards the door, a rather rude way of showing someone out, particularly someone you've been... involved with, in a slightly deeper capacity. But they're on the clock with this thing and he cannot afford to cuddle Gia's feelings. Not now.

She shrugs him off, though, facing him with a harsh glint in her dark eyes. "You know what? You don't call, you completely ignore my messages, you don't even pay me the courtesy of telling me about Josephine. You  _ made _ me like that woman. I get it that I was just a booty call for you, but that's fucking disgusting, Elijah."

"Gia -"

"I am  _ done _ taking orders from you. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Now is not the time for this."

"It never is!"

"Nor is it the place. Believe me when I tell you you cannot be here," he says in a slow, clipped tone, exasperation beginning to shine through.

Gia scoffs. "Is this your way of looking out for me? Whatever. I don't play guessing games."

Elijah doesn't even realize he's doing it until his mouth is on hers, his hands cradling her head, fingers digging into the smoothness of her hair. Gia resists for only a second, taken aback, and then she tilts her head to the side and parts her lips to deepen the kiss. It's a brief comfort, a flimsy one. A mere reminder that there is something more to his life than just the horrors of his family and the tragedy that follows their every step. That there  _ could _ be more, if only he'd allow it.

For that to even be a possibility in the foreseeable future, however, Elijah needs to protect Gia from what's about to go down under their roof.

He breaks the kiss, letting his hand slowly slide down from her face. "You don’t have to guess. But you really have to go," he tells her, softly now, a plea in his eyes. "Please."

Still reluctant but visibly resigned, Gia complies. She stops by the gate, looking back at him. Elijah nods to her and only breathes again once she's disappeared from sight.

One less thing for him to worry about.

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Klaus feels completely in sync with the storm raging violently outside, lightning and thunder a mere extension of the mayhem running rampage inside of him. He feels like poison made flesh, every part of him drenched in bitterness and anger. Somehow, he finds it soothing to watch the rain castigate the city, as though he's the one inflicting it, that it is his anger manifesting over New Orleans, mitigating some of his own desires for revenge.

A ring knives through his thoughts. It's Rebekah. So they've realized he's no longer subdued in the coffin where they left him to rot; took them long enough.

"My deadline has come and gone, and yet you bring me... Here," Dahlia complains. He could feel her growing restless over the last hour.

"I find it fitting," he retorts evenly. "This is where Freya plotted her own treachery."

"When I granted you the strength to overcome the dagger's curse, I assumed you would thank me by taking swift and merciless action."

Klaus refrains from rolling his eyes, stepping away from the shuttered windows at the top of St. Louis' Cathedral. "Am I to traipse around in this monsoon you've created? I do not enjoy being wet."

Dahlia blows in his direction and he gets a sharp twinge in his head, his mind fogging in a second as his whole body feels impossibly heavy. He stumbles, nearly losing his balance. A reminder that he is, for all intents and purposes, at her mercy.

"This storm is to stop your family from aiding those who ran with the child," Dahlia says, her voice carrying a distinct undercurrent of impatience. "So I wonder... Are you having second thoughts about standing against them? They are the family, after all, who left you to rot."

"I assure you there are no second thoughts."

"We struck a bargain for the benefit of your child, so that she'd be delivered to me safely and be content by the presence of her parents. But make no mistake, Niklaus, I will gladly put you back to sleep, let Caroline's soul cross over to and take the child myself."

"Let me be clear about something, witch," Klaus snaps. "You need me. I know my siblings better than anyone, their strengths, their weaknesses. They're a powerful and determined lot, perhaps capable of evading you for the short year that you have until your slumber begins anew. You may well lose everything. But I know how to vanquish those who stand against us, and that is exactly what I intend to do."

Dahlia gives him a pointed look, but seems sufficiently convinced. With a wave of her hand, the storm instantly goes away, clouds parting and the weather clearing in the blink of an eye. Klaus almost resents it, missing the sound of thunder striking in tandem with the furious pounding of his heart.

"The storm has served its purpose," she declares. "Now, enough delays. I will take what is owed to me and if the werewolves resist or attempt to run, I will kill every last one of them myself."

Klaus' mouth curls into a wicked smirk. "I wouldn't worry about that. I have something planned for Jackson Kenner that is far worse than death."

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"If you find him, keep your distance. Call me. I'll handle it," Marcel is speaking on the phone as he enters his loft, apparently in a hurry.

Why is Klaus not surprised that he has joined his siblings in their quest to put him down? Remove him from the picture is exactly what Marcel had been trying to do since the day Klaus set foot back in New Orleans. Fates have smiled at him and he is embracing his chance, wasting no time. With Caroline's empowered wolves on the run, there's an opening in the French Quarter so that his filthy vampire club might crawl their way back into the city.

"That's sound advice," Klaus muses from where he is, sitting on an armchair in the living room.

Marcel whips around at him, fear flashing through his eyes for just a split second before he covers it up. "Hey -"

"Although I do wonder... How exactly would you handle me?"

"Klaus, before you get angry -"

_ Before _ ?

He doesn't even wait for Marcel to finish what would certainly be a foolish remark to flash over to him, wrapping a hand around the other man’s neck and smashing him against the wall.

"I am well past angry, Marcellus," he says, his voice deceptively calm, but he's certain the hellfire burning in his eyes is quite clear. "I am mad with rage."

"I'm sorry about Caroline," the other man chokes out. "I really am."

Klaus slits his eyes dangerously at him. "Today is your lucky day, because I'm not gonna kill you. No, I need something from you, so instead I'm gonna take solace in the anticipation of ripping it out."

With a flick of his wrist, Klaus snaps Marcel's neck, dropping him to the floor none too gently. He's going to need a few items now, all he's certain will be easily found in Marcellus' lair: rope and a variety of sharp, pointy tools. Normally, Klaus would do this in a much slower and more pleasurable way, but since he's unfortunately running out of time, he's just gonna have to expedite the process of draining the vervain completely out of Marcel's body. It's rather ugly, doing it in a hurry. Makes a terrible mess. But so be it.

First, he's going to extract a certain spell from him. And then Marcel is going to be charged with some much needed tasks. After all, Klaus can't take care of everything himself. Knowing how and when to delegate is the talent of a true leader. Marcel will have a blast with what he has planned. And so will Rebekah.

"I found this one outside," Dahlia says, shoving someone into the room.

The young woman tumbles forward, clenching her teeth as she glares back at his aunt. The smile on Klaus' face is almost genuine. Now,  _ this _ is what he calls destiny. He hadn't planned to use her, didn't even remember her insignificant existence, truth be told, but since she is here...

"Hello, pretty," he greets Gia. She gets all stiff like a twig, eying him with a bite in her gaze. She's a fighter, this one. Elijah likes them feisty. "I think you're gonna come in rather useful later on."

Oh, this just got a whole lot better.

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This whole idea seemed hella farfetched to Rebekah before, but now, looking at the mud golem she is supposed to spell into taking her niece's form, she simply cannot fathom how anyone thought she could do this. She is mighty skeptical to say the least.

Even with the progress she's made in taming her - or Eva's, whatever - magic over the last few weeks, this seems like way too advanced spell-making for her present capabilities. Their entire plan revolves around this. If she so much as falters, the magic will fall apart and they'll be lost.

It's a testament to how desperate they are if this family is truly trusting her and her feeble control of her powers with all their hope.

"And you are absolutely certain this can work?" Elijah asks while Freya sprinkles some kind of dust over the golem, preparing it for the spell.

"Let's not toss around words like certain," Rebekah retorts, more than a little antsy.

"Nonsense," Freya offers easily. "You grow more adept to magic each day, and this spell is flawless." Her eyes harden as she cuts to Elijah. "Though I might have preferred Elijah ask my permission before volunteering me as the bait."

Their brother remains unflappable in the face of reproach. "I'm not in the habit of asking for permission."

Freya lets out a weary sigh, as though tired of having this argument. "No matter," she says, standing to her feet. "We have all that we need. Rebekah will perform the spell, using my heartbeat and the golem to craft the illusion of Eve's presence. Once Dahlia's lured into the killing ground, you, Elijah, are in charge of the final blow."

"You're rather calm, which is odd, since there are a million ways this whole plan could fall to pieces," Rebekah says, tapping her feet nervously. Freya was shooting daggers left and right an hour ago, and now she seems almost resigned to her fate, whatever it may be. Rebekah doesn't know whether to be angry at her for her mindless behavior in such a dire time, or simply envious. She wishes she could draw a bit of that quiet confidence to herself, keep it lodged in her core for strength. The thing she misses the most from her original body is the kind of easy audacity this model so lacks, as though it is severely conscious, at all times, of its own fragility.

Freya considers her in silence for a moment, before her eyes flicker away to a portrait of Nik, hanging on the wall behind them. "I admit... At first I was upset when Elijah ignored my plan in favor of his own. You were all so shaken with Caroline's death, so determined to protect Eve at all costs... Perhaps I'm envious. No one ever fought so hard for me." She turns back to the two of them, her eyes liquid and clear, as earnest as Rebekah's ever seen her. "Then I recalled what I saw when I looked inside your mind... The day you all swore an oath to stand by one another, always and forever. There's strength in such vows."

"I can assure you it has not been free of consequence," Elijah says, his face perfectly impassive, but his voice carrying a dark timber.

"That is an understatement," Rebekah adds. "Ask me, that vow's been more trouble than it's worth."

"And yet here you are, proving my point. Family defines you even if it does demand sacrifice." Freya walks up to Rebekah, taking her hands in hers, her lips curling into a shy smile. "My entire life, I have longed for what you have. It's better to at least glimpse it facing death than run forever and know nothing of family. The way you fight for that little girl… You’re doing the right thing. You’re doing what mother should’ve done for me."

Rebekah cannot help smiling back, feeling something tug deep inside her chest, the same odd sensation she had the very first time she met Freya. Like they're connected, even if they don't know how, even if they cannot explain it.

Rebekah would like to say she wishes to have more time to know Freya, to truly have the sister she always wanted to, once this madness is over and her niece has been saved and Freya has broken free of Dahlia once and for all. But she realizes that's all wishful thinking right now. She’s afraid to even think it, for fear of jinxing whatever small chance they might have. They may never be a family again, not as they once were, as the poor young vampires who held hands and made a vow to never grow apart and always stand for one another. With Caroline gone and Nik wrecked with anger and grief as he surely is... Even if they do vanquish Dahlia, things will hardly go back to any semblance of normalcy in the Mikaelson household, even by their own crazy standards.

One can still dream, though. If not for hope, then why fight at all?

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Church bells chime in a foreign and eerie tune, a dark note that sends a shiver down Elijah's spine.

He fixes his grip around the hunting knife in his hand, knuckles whitening as he draws in a sharp intake of breath.

It's time.

He exchanges a final look with Rebekah, her face marred by doubt even as she sets it to determination, before she puts her hands forward and begins chanting. In the ballroom, she's close enough to the courtyard, where Freya is positioned, but far enough that she won't be heard. She has to keep chanting for as long as they need the spell to hold; if she stops, the illusion will be broken.

Behind him, the white casket stands like an ominous presence, a reminder of the great price they've already paid. It is a physical manifestation of all their failings; the guilt that weighs so heavily in Elijah's lungs, stealing his breath, staring right back at him.

He gives it one last look, a silent promise to Caroline that he will save her daughter or he will die trying, and then he moves on to position himself outside. He hides in the shadows, behind the pillars surrounding the courtyard, waiting.

Freya is already holding the mock baby. The spell is truly spectacular; from where he stands, he can absolutely not tell it's an illusion. It looks exactly like Eve, it even moves. His older sister stands firm within the killing area, rocking the child in her arms, eyes fixed on the front gate. There's a certain electricity in the air, and he's certain Freya feels it, too. It's an ominous energy, something sinister and threatening of coming darkness.

Not long after, he hears the sounds of footsteps calmly approaching, heels clicking against the stoned floor, reverberating across the courtyard. Elijah stiffens, his entire body growing tense like a wild animal ready to strike.

When Dahlia's figure appears, he holds his breath in, the sound of his own heartbeat deafening in his ears.

"I come all this way to collect what is owed to me and whom should I find?" she speaks conversationally, still a good distance away from where they want her.

Freya swallows down nervously. "Tante, please, listen. I betrayed my siblings so I could procure this child." Dahlia takes a single step forward. "I offer her to you now, and in exchange, I only ask that you release me from my obligations to you."

Dahlia cocks her head to the side. "How curious that you should bargain with me for that which is already mine. But by all means, make your case for why you should be freed, and then I will decide whether to release you... Or kill you." Another step. "I must confess, you surprise me, Freya, betraying the family you meant to coax to your side. How so very ruthless of you."

A shadow crosses Freya's eyes, bitterness written across the plains of her face. Entirely too convincing for her feelings not to be at least somewhat real. "I had hoped that they would welcome me as a sister. I was wrong."

"Of course you were, you poor, little fool, to think that Esther's wicked progeny could ever care for you," Dahlia speaks without a hint of sympathy. "They are known the world over for obscene acts of violence, and yet you sought them out instead of staying where you belonged, with me." Another step. Each time she moves, Elijah's heart gives a lurch, and yet she's still excruciatingly out of reach for the spell to take. "And now it is you alone. Who could ever love such a deceitful little wretch?"

Just one more step and Dahlia will have crossed that invisible line that will render her mortal... One step and Elijah can plunge his knife into her heart, end this torment once and for all. He prepares for the attack, adjusts his body just so...

And then many things happen almost at once.

First, Freya's eyes widen in shock, and Elijah doesn't understand until he realizes he can't hear Rebekah's distant voice anymore. In a blink, the baby in his sister's arms dissolves into dust. She looks absolutely terrified. Elijah freezes, unsure of what to do - whether to go to Rebekah, or to protect Freya. Something must have happened for her to stop the spell, but if he leaves, Freya will most certainly die.

"What have you done?" Dahlia grinds out, her eyes boring into her former protege like daggers.

Before he can make a decision, however, Freya makes it for him. She steps out of her killing space and wraps her arms around Dahlia, forcing her across the line. " _ Elijah, now! _ "

That's it, then. Elijah blurs out of his hiding spot, knife in hand, ready to stab that demon back to hell, but before he can reach her, someone barrels into him, sending him crashing to the ground. The move is so violent it knocks the air off his lungs. They take his brief moment of desorientation to pin him down, forcing him to drop the knife.

Elijah's heart sinks when his eyes meet the murder in his brother's, flashing gold at him.

"Niklaus," he breathes out in stunned disbelief.

His lips twist into disdain. "And so the wheel of betrayal circles round once more," he hisses at him.

Elijah is still lost, overwhelmed by Niklaus' sudden appearance, the fact he worked to protect Dahlia - that he might have done something to  _ Rebekah _ \- when his brother grabs him by the throat and sends him flying across the courtyard with such strength Elijah crashes against the wall on the second floor. He vaguely hears Freya screaming and knows that Dahlia is probably hurting her now, will likely kill her, but Klaus doesn't give him a chance to go to her aid.

Elijah's barely picked himself up and his brother is already there, hands tightly wrapped around his neck once more, slamming him hard against the wall. It makes Elijah's vision explode in white.

Niklaus is simply too strong, and he is unleashing the darkest part of his rage upon him, something he's never done before. He looks completely taken with crazed fury, an animalistic aura setting him ablaze. Elijah doesn't stand a chance. No one does.

"She's controlling you," he chokes out, tumbling over his words as his breath falters. "You have to - fight her."

"The only thing she did was pull out the dagger you stuck in my heart," he speaks hotly between gritted teeth. Elijah catches the undercurrent of hurt in his words, and realizes Dahlia's not pulling the strings here. Niklaus is not being controlled. He's doing this out of revenge.

He gathers enough strength to hit his brother across the chin, elbowing his face and then kicking his chest. Klaus doubles over, and Elijah knees him in the groin, twice. His momentum is brutally interrupted when Niklaus shoves him off, sending him skidding to the floor. He spits out blood and then rushes over to Elijah once more, regaining the lead as he punches Elijah's face repeatedly. It's like getting smacked with a rock.

"She will take... Everything from us," he grunts, pleading as his brother pins him to the wall once more.

"I've already lost everything," he roars again. "You took it from me when you broke our vow and betrayed me. When you let Caroline walk out of that club after you promised you'd watch over her. When you let those werewolves take my daughter. Perhaps I'll take something from you now." Klaus pushes Elijah onto his knees, holding him by the back of his head, his fingers digging painfully into his hair as he forces him to stay down, shoving his face against the railing on the walkway. "Gia! Be a sweetheart and show yourself, will you?"

A sick, dizzying shudder settles at the pit of Elijah's stomach as Gia appears at the courtyard, looking up at the two of them with her face scrunched up in anger and fear.

"No. No!" he screams, flailing uselessly. "Niklaus, no. Don't hurt her!"

"That's a good girl," his brother speaks slowly, a venomous tune that makes Elijah's heart skip several fundamental beats. "Now, Gia. Tell us. What do you think of my brother here?"

Gia's mouth presses into a fine line, her hands balling into tight fists beside her body as though she were trying with her every fiber to resist the urge to speak. Niklaus compelled her. Terror solidifies into something heavy and suffocating inside Elijah's chest.

"I think..." she starts, her voice coming out strained and stilted, eyes brimming with tears. She's strong. So strong. But not strong enough to fight the compulsion, and it is killing her. Elijah wants to stand up and beat Niklaus into the ground for what he's doing, for this maniacal revenge of his. He can barely move, however, being mercilessly held and forced to watch. "He's been hurt. Had his heart broken too many times. He is lonely... Same as me. But at the same time... He's kind and caring... Selfless... And strong."

"Ah... Damaged, but valiant," Niklaus sneers, intensifying his hold on Elijah to make it more painful. "The perfect hero. Isn't that sweet? And how do you feel  _ personally _ about my noble brother here?"

Gia shuts her eyes against the compulsion, sucking in a shuddery breath. "Stop this, Niklaus!" he protests, but Klaus simply shoves his face harder against the railing.

"I like him," Gia speaks, only a notch above a whisper. "A lot."

"You do, don't you? Would you like to tell her how you feel, Elijah?" Elijah grits his teeth, his eyes meeting Gia's mortified ones. He's never seen her so vulnerable. It breaks his heart and makes him want to set fire to the world, all at once. "No? Oh, that's sad. You'll have to excuse him, Gia. He may be brave and selfless, but he can also be rather cold. Or perhaps he's just trying to spare you the heartbreak. You don't love her, do you, Elijah? Perhaps if I was to sleep with you, love, then my brother would suddenly find himself a lot more attracted to you. That seems to be quite the aphrodisiac for him, always coveting that which no good brother ever should."

" _ Shut up _ !" Elijah yells, anger flaring up hotter than ever. "Shut up, Niklaus, or I swear to God -"

"Or what? Are you going to dagger me again? Let the woman I love die? Take my daughter away from me? You've done everything you could, Elijah. Now it's my turn to pay it back. Gia," he calls with a sick kind of enthusiasm. Gia winces. "What is it that you have in your pocket, sweetheart? Show us.”

Trembling, Gia fishes out a dagger from the front pocket of her sweater, very similar to the ones Niklaus commonly uses to dagger his family.

Elijah starts flailing about, desperate. "No!  _ No! _ " he screams with reckless abandon, mauled by panic and dread.

"Do as we agreed, love... And drive that dagger into your heart," Klaus commands, voice pitched low and dark, but perfectly contained, as though he were asking her to do something trivial.

"I'm sorry, Elijah..." Gia speaks around a sob, tears trailing down her cheeks as she stares at him. "I can't help it."

Elijah writhes manically, screaming as Gia daggers herself, her lips parting with a choked gasp before she starts to desiccate. Her skin turns ashen, her expression smoothing into nothingness as the light goes out in her eyes. And then she tumbles down.

The fight lifts off Elijah, draining out of him all at once, leaving him cold and adrift. Gia lies on the ground in a graceless heap, dagger protruding from her chest. It feels almost... unreal, half of him expecting her to open her eyes and wake up any second, for this to be a hoax, a wicked prank played by his brother to teach him a lesson. An agonizingly long second goes by, then another, and nothing happens. The world remains in suspense, and Gia stays immovable. Dead.

"You seem vexed, brother," Klaus drawls out viciously, pulling Elijah up to look him in the eye. He sees not a shadow of remorse in his brother. "You let Caroline die. This poor nobody is nothing compared to what you've taken from me. You should see what I have planned for the werewolves who killed her and took my daughter."

Something snaps inside of Elijah. The veneer of shock dissipates, the foggy sensation clouding his thoughts breaks, and Elijah is overflown by white, hot rage. He grinds his teeth, snarling at his brother, suddenly overcome by a savage desire to rip off that disdain from his eyes, to tear apart the contempt in his voice, even if for that he has to cut Niklaus' throat open with his bare hands.

He lunges at Klaus, attacking with an intensity he hadn't yet felt tonight, trying to hurt, to draw blood, to inflict pain, and the two of them lock in vile combat. Elijah doesn't know which one of them trips first, but both are sent crashing down the stairs. He rolls over, swiftly pulling himself up, baring his fangs at Klaus like an animal.

Niklaus smirks. "Is that a hint of the fabled beast behind the red door? Come on, brother! Let him out to play."

Another sharp stab of anger at his provocation, at the vileness coating his voice, and Elijah launches again. Klaus dodges the attack, swirling around to wrap his arm around Elijah's neck from behind. He feels something sharp pressing against his chest, and, too late, he realizes his brother is pushing Papa Tunde's blade into him. He writhes and contorts, trying to wriggle away from Klaus' grip, but he's much too strong, and with each inch taken by the blade, Elijah's strength dwindles further.

"You should know better than to fight me in anger..." Klaus hisses in his ear. "For my anger is unrivaled and unending.” He pushes Elijah away, looks him dead in the eye. “This is for Caroline.”

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Elijah's body drops to the floor with a loud thump, his eyes still wide open as he moves his lips wordlessly, the blade's dark magic spreading across him like a fever, taking root. He should have a good many grim and hopeless thoughts crowding his skull now to help induce the wretched state of despair he'll be locked into for the foreseeable future.

"Klaus?"

He whips around at the soft, hesitant voice to see Camille standing by the arched gateway, a horrified look in her eyes. Oh, for bloody hell's sake... Couldn't she have picked a worse time to show up?

"You shouldn't have come here, Camille," he says in a low and grave way, fixing her under a dark glare, trying to scare her away. If she has an inch of reason within her, she'll run.

"What... What have you done?" she stutters as she approaches, looking at the bodies on the ground - Gia's desiccated one and Elijah's still writhing one. No reason, then. "What are you doing, Klaus? This is... This is madness."

"Yes, it is. But then you already knew I'm mad. So why do you seem so surprised?"

"No..." She shakes her head lightly, sticking her chin forward, so clearly trying to force the courage out when he can smell her fear. "No, this is not you, Klaus. This is not... The man Caroline knows. The one she speaks..." She pauses, swallows down hard. "Spoke about. She believed there was goodness in you, and you are dishonoring her memory by turning on your own family. I know you're hurt, but this is not the way."

"Is there a problem?" Dahlia asks as she appears on top of the stairs.

Klaus' eyes dart from Camille to her, forced to think quickly. He had nothing in store for Camille, not even a minor desire to make her suffer. Unfortunately, she chose a terrible time to try and fight for his cursed soul. So much like Caroline that her goodness will cost her as well.

"Not at all," he speaks in a flat tone as he strides across the courtyard towards the blonde woman. "Just another victim."

"No, Klaus," she puts her hands forward, stumbling backward. "Don't do this. You know you don't have to. Please, don't do this."

He puts a hand on her hair and then pulls it to expose her neck. Camille screams when he sinks his teeth into her. He barely feels it as her fingers dig hard into his arms, not even strong enough to draw blood. So fragile, and yet getting her nose where she isn't supposed to, trying to lock horns with creatures far older and more powerful than she could ever fathom. Courage isn't always a virtuous trait. Sometimes, it's the worst of curses.

When she passes out, he lets her tumble to the ground, joining the growing number of corpses littering the place.

Klaus licks his lips, at the very least enjoying the taste of fresh blood in his mouth.

"Quite the sinister plot they had planned..." Dahlia says conversationally as she marches down the stairs. Klaus doesn't see Freya anywhere. He wonders if Dahlia has simply obliterated her from this plane, or if she's got a more malevolent punishment in mind. "It would've failed in the end, though. Just as well you came to your senses and sided with me."

Marcel traipses into the courtyard, dragging a flailing Rebekah by her arm, a murderous expression on his face. He's put her in those sordid shackles, keeping her from using her magic against them. Not that Klaus would be too concerned about it. Rebekah's juvenile magical capabilities would hardly measure against his monumental rage.

Rebekah's eyes rake around the courtyard, taking in the three bodies lying there. "Have you lost your mind?!" she nearly screams, her face contorting with horror.

"My mind is quite clear," he replies calmly. "I just decided to purge it of treacherous barnacles."

"You bastard! How could you?!"

"A bastard is precisely what I am, sister, that's hardly offensive at this point. And, actually, it was rather easy to do all this. I just recalled what Elijah did to me and reciprocated tenfold. Be careful, or I'll apply the same equation to you. Marcellus," he turns to his former ally, capturing his eyes. "Keep Rebekah here. If she tries to leave - well, you do enjoy life as a mortal, sister. You can punish her by taking that life away."

"Go to hell!" Marcel spits out, unable to resist the compulsion, but not trying to hide how enraged he is. That's something Klaus was particularly careful with. If he'd compelled him and Gia to simply do whatever he wanted without a second thought, they wouldn't have felt the weight of their own actions, and thus it wouldn't have been punishment at all - not to them, and not to the ones that would suffer the most. This way, they get all the despair shining through their eyes, and are still unable to fight back. They're his prisoners in their own bodies. Quite devious, but so much more enjoyable.

"If by hell you mean somewhere you lose everything you hold dear and are betrayed by those you trust the most, then it's from hell I've just come from, and I didn't care much for it. Now, do as you're told." Marcel's grip around Rebekah's arm tightens. "There's a good lad."

"The child's magic is still cloaked," Dahlia tells him. "I shall need your blood to track her."

"No! Nik, don't!" Rebekah screams as Marcel drags her away. "Caroline would hate you for what you're doing! She would never forgive you!"

With his eyes fixed on his sister, Klaus bites on his hand and lets his blood drop into Dahlia's open palm.

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"Think it through," Rebekah says as Marcel paces anxiously around the room, grunting every now and again as a brand new wave of frustration hits.

He's bristling with anger, Rebekah knows even without the aid of any heightened senses. Nik hung him upside down at his loft, stabbed him several times until he'd practically bled out and then forced him to share the spell Celeste had used to curse the Crescent wolves two decades ago. And then he compelled him to stop Rebekah from doing magic at all costs. She didn't even see what got her until she had the shackles slapped on her wrists and could no longer keep Eve's illusion going.  _ I'm so sorry _ , he said, his eyes filled with regret.  _ He made me do it, I can't stop it. _ .

Marcel didn't do anything to spark Nik's anger this time. He was a mere bystander, trying to help out whichever way he could. If he's decided to use him in his grand plot of revenge against his family, it's to get to her.

"If I try to go, you kill me," Rebekah reasons. "If I remove these -" she lifts her arms, showing him the manacles.

"That is the same as trying to go," Marcel slams, pointing a finger at her.

Rebekah puffs out in frustration. "Can't you fight the compulsion?"

"He bled the vervain out of my body, Rebekah!"

Rebekah slumps down on the couch, deflating like a balloon. "He's lost it completely. I don't think I've ever seen him so taken with this kind of virulence towards his own family before. Not even when I thought he would kill me... He's savage. He's not himself anymore, not even a little bit."

"That  _ is _ Klaus, Rebekah. That is the man he is towards everyone. Just because he'd never turned his raging bazooka against you before it doesn't mean he wasn't capable."

Marcel has a point, and it lands like a blow. Despite all the terrible things she's been subjected to over the centuries because of Niklaus' possessiveness and pride, it's as though she's finally seen him for who he is for the first time. The mythical monster whose very name caused entire villages to cower in fear.

"But his daughter?” she says with a pang. “I can't believe he would give her away... His last remaining connection to Caroline."

"Maybe that's exactly why he will. Maybe he doesn't want to have a connection to her anymore. He's just burning all the bridges, setting himself free so he can go back to being as ruthless as ever without a shred of guilt, like she was never in his life."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think he flipped his humanity switch."

"It doesn't matter, Rebekah. All that matters is that we're fucked!"

Nik's cruelty knows no bounds. She anticipated he'd be mad out of his mind, but this? Siding up with Dahlia, killing Gia, compelling Marcel to stop Rebekah when he  _ knows _ she won't be able to just sit back while her brother torches down the entire world in a fit of anger? This is too extreme, even for Niklaus. Not in a million years she could've ever imagined him going off like this.

... And maybe that's exactly why he wouldn't.

Rebekah stays silent in thought for a moment. Why would Nik do something like this if he  _ knows _ she'll try to leave one way or another? He wouldn't want her dead. If he did, he could've just killed her himself. Like he could've killed Elijah with the white oak stake. No, this isn't to get them murdered, it's to punish them. And if that's the case...

"Maybe this is all part of Nik's twisted revenge," she muses. "He doesn't mean for me to die. He wants you to kill this body so I'll wake up in the original, robbing me of my one chance to have a normal life and keep my promise to Kol, things that he  _ knows _ mean the world to me. He wants to take something away from us like it was taken from him."

"Then don't give him what he wants, all right? Don't run and I won't hurt you."

"How long do you think we can keep this, Marcel? He's not going to come back here to break the compulsion. It's on purpose, can't you see? Nik wants me to sacrifice something."

"Your brother is insane, Rebekah! Are you willing to bet?"

"I don't have a choice. I can't let that witch get her hands on my niece, which means we're gonna have to do this the hard way. You're gonna have to kill me."

"That's not happening! End of discussion!" 

She puts her palms together in a plea. "Think about it. Why did mother want to destroy my true body? To ensure I could never go back, meaning if something happened to this one, my spirit's default is to jump back to the original."

"You don't know that for sure. Are you willing to gamble with your life?"

"Of course I don't want to! I wasn't ready to give up this body either. But that's exactly why Nik wouldn’t do this, it's all part of his maniacal plan! He's forcing our hand the worst possible way."

"What if he just wants you dead?"

"No," Rebekah says, not missing a beat. Surprisingly, she realizes she really does believe that. "However angry he is, I know my brother. Endless torment, fine. But he will never let me die. If he didn't kill me when he found out about what we did in 1919, he won't kill me now. So... All we have to do is just play this out. I try to go, you kill me and then... I wake up upstairs, in my true body."

"Rebekah, please," Marcel implores, putting his palms together, face crumpling up in sheer despair. "Don't make me do this. I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't back down, I won't be able to stop myself."

Rebekah smiles warmly at him, touching the side of his face. "Marcel Gerard... You really do care for me. The least I can do is save you from the awful act itself."

Rebekah takes two steps back, snatching a letter opener as she does. With a final smile to Marcel, she uses all her strength to stab herself in the neck with it.

The last thing she hears before everything goes dark is the anguished, desperate sound of Marcel's scream.

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Klaus is not at all impressed with the strategy employed by the wolves to safeguard his daughter. A couple of men armed with crossbows outside an old junk yard, no doubt while the rest of the pack is hidden inside. This is where Caroline chose to put her trust. He would feel insulted if there was any space left in him for anything that isn't wrath.

The only thing that separated them from Dahlia was the cloaking spell. She couldn't find Eve without his blood, which he gladly provided, seeing as he was most determined himself to learn of their whereabouts. And this is how they intended to elude the witch for a whole year, hiding like a bunch of rats at a filthy junk yard with his child. What a bloody useless lot.

Well, this ends now.

Klaus flashes over to one of the werewolves, using his own finger as a weapon, pressing it so hard into the men's neck he almost punctures the skin. The man screams loudly, attracting other wolves outside - including the one Klaus wanted to see: Jackson Kenner, in the flesh. As soon as he's got their attention, he smashes the man’s head against a tree, rendering him unconscious, and pushes him to the ground.

"Good evening, Crescents," he greets, a maniac smile on his face. "It will come as no surprise to learn that things will not be ending well for your lot tonight."

Jackson takes a step forward, squaring his shoulder in that saintly hero posture Klaus so loathes. With his eyes fixed on Klaus, he turns his face to toss out commands to his men. "Get back inside. Get Eve and Mary out of here. I'll be right behind you."

The man hesitates. "Jackson -"

"Just get Eve and run!"

Klaus arches his eyebrows as the man finally obeys. "You're an optimist, I'll give you that," he says.

Jackson scowls. "Let's take him."

It's the sign for his pack of mongrels to attack. Klaus is certain they've been waiting for this opportunity for a long time, some of them might have even resented Jackson for forging an alliance with Caroline, seeing as, at least in theory, it meant they ought to protect her family, of which he was a part of. They've got a lot of stamina, are definitely determined, but they're also highly misinformed or just plain arrogant if they think they're any match for the Original hybrid. Haven't they been paying attention at all?

Klaus handles the werewolves who come at him rather quickly. After that brawl with Elijah, this is child's stuff. He could take them with his eyes closed, so easy it's not even exciting. One of them manages to hit his face, making Klaus taste blood in his mouth. He spits it out and then grabs the man's head with his hands before throwing him down as though he's trying to punch a hole in the ground using him as a hammer. The man falls unconscious, or maybe dead, he doesn't know. Doesn't really care either.

Now Jackson comes a bit closer. He shoots an arrow right through Klaus' shoulder, making him grunt loudly. Grinding his teeth, he pulls the arrow out, the wound burning as the iron head mangles flesh and skin. It doesn't last long, though; as soon as it's out, the wound begins to heal. It just shows how careless they were, not bothering to spray their arrows with vervain and a dash of wolfsbane. So juvenile... And they call themselves a pack.

"You think you can defeat me with your toys?" Klaus asks as he breaks the arrow in two and tosses it out.

"We're just getting warmed up," Jackson retorts sharply.

"So your men run and you hold the line. How so very valiant. Not too bright, though. You do remember our last somewhat one-sided altercation, I hope."

Jackson drops his crossbow and the arrows to the ground, cracking his neck as he takes a step forward. "This ain't gonna be like the last time," he says. His eyes flash in a golden hue, and it immediately makes anger flare up anew in Klaus' guts. Caroline is the reason he's got those eyes. She's what's given them the foolish confidence to believe they might be able to take him.

"You're hopeful. That's sweet. But it won't save you. Just one thing before I finish you... There's an information I need. Would you be a dear and point me directly to the person or persons responsible for Caroline's murder?" His words are light, but his voice is as sharp as a knife.

Jackson's frown deepens, and he looks at Klaus as though he can't fully grasp the question. "What?"

"Don't feign surprise. Aren't you the alpha? You should know what your pack is up to. One of your wolves decided to retaliate by ripping Caroline's heart from her chest - the woman responsible for your golden eyes and your sharp teeth, effectively giving you hope that you might be able to defeat me with your newfound strength. So. Who was it?"

Jackson's expression morphs into horror. Klaus hears his breath catching, his heart stuttering. He is being honest, then; he really doesn't know. "Caroline... Is dead?" he stammers, his voice coming out strained.

"I won't ask again.  _ Who murdered her _ ?"

Jackson shakes his head, distraught. "I... I... Don't know."

"Well, then. I guess that means I'll have to take out every one of you Crescents, just to make sure. I will enjoy starting with you."

Jackson snaps out of his daze in time to haphazardly move out of the way when Klaus jumps him. He regains his posture and punches Klaus twice on the face. Klaus snarls furiously, bearing his fangs at the Crescents' useless alpha. Jackson certainly has gotten stronger and more agile... But it's still not enough.

"I reckon you've gone from field mouse to lapdog," he sneers

Jackson takes a fighting stance, lifting his fists before his face. "Come on, then!"

Klaus barrels into Jackson, making full use of his vampire speed, and sends him flying in the air. He crashes against a tree, rolling to the ground with a breathless grunt.

Just as he's about to go for strike two, Dahlia steps. "Enough!"

Jackson looks up, his eyebrows slashing together. "Why is she with you?"

"Unlike some, he's doing what is best for his daughter," Dahlia answers for him.

The werewolf's eyes darken, his whole face twisting into contempt. "Caroline would never forgive you."

Klaus smashes his face down with his closed fist. "Wash your mouth before you speak her name," he spits out. "You do not deserve anything Caroline's ever done for you. And this is why I'll pay you back exactly as you deserve."

He casts a look at Dahlia. She sighs, as though terribly bored, and then puts her hands out, palms turned towards the fallen Crescent. Jackson's body goes stiff, his eyes wide and unblinking before a loud scream rips off his chest. Soon enough Klaus is hearing a symphony of painful groans and yelps all over as one after the other, Crescents fall to their knees. Jackson writhes on the ground, straining against the thing he cannot stop, his bones cracking painfully, contorting in unnatural ways.

"Why are you doing this?!" he grits out at Dahlia.

"Oh this? No, this was my idea," Klaus says. "Stole a page from Marcel’s book, the Crescent curse he once used on your pack. Nasty thing, isn't it? But very ingenious. Since you've all been linked by that ritual, what happens to one of you, happens to all." Klaus crouches down in front of Jackson; he's breathing hard through his nose, his eyes yellow, fur starting to grow on the sides of his face. Not a pretty sight to look at, a wolf in transformation. The pain is so great he knows Jackson must be hardly hearing him now, still he whispers to him. "Now you and your entire pack will be trapped in wolf form, save for the full moon, leaving you very little time to cause any further mischief. I am putting you back exactly where you were before Caroline. And you will remain so for the rest of your miserable life."

Jackson gasps loudly, mashing his eyes shut. "She is going... She is going to steal... Caroline's... Caroline's child."

Klaus stands to his feet, looking down at that pathetic half-creature with nothing but disdain. "It was you who tried to steal our child. And for that, you will suffer."

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Klaus lets out what is like his first breath in days when he sees his daughter. It wasn't that long ago that Elijah put him under the dagger, but it feels like a century has gone by. As always, Eve has the unique power of smoothing down her father’s spiky edges. Klaus has been nothing but hatred and hellfire since he came back, and yet a single look at his little girl and the raving mayhem inside of him seems to settle.

She's perfectly safe in her car seat, already attached to the backseat of a horrible pickup truck. There's no one around, though, and the driver's door hangs open. Whoever was trying to run with her has now disappeared into the woods to lick their wounds.

"Hello, my littlest wolf," he coos, reaching out to take her little hand when she turns her face to him. Eve looks scared, her big blue eyes bright in the night. It brings a sour taste to his mouth, to see her so apparently frightened. "Daddy is here. It's all gonna be ok, I promise."

"And there she is," Dahlia's cold timber cuts into his moment with his daughter, bringing Klaus back to reality.

So much has happened already today, and yet this is still far from over.

"Such a beautiful child," she continues, craning her neck to look over Klaus's shoulder. "She looks like you."

He turns around, carefully positioning himself in front of the door, blocking her view of Eve. "Actually, she looks like her mother."

Dahlia smiles shortly at him. "I want to thank you, Niklaus, for your hand in procuring her for me. You were right, without you, this would've been much more laborious and taken an exhausting amount of time. It must not have been easy, betraying your family."

She makes as though to take the baby, and Klaus steps in front of her, putting an arm across the car door. Dahlia cocks her head at him, confused. "I will not see my daughter handed over like the spoils of some war. To that end, I remind you of your promise."

She sighs. "Of course." The witch takes a deep breath and puts her hands out, closing her eyes. A low chant escapes her mouth, an old language not unlike that which his mother used for her own enchantments, something not even Klaus can translate. A biting wind blows from the woods, surrounding her as though she's standing in the eye of a mini tornado.

_ Something _ is definitely happening, he can feel it in his bones, every hair on his body standing to attention. She stays like this a moment longer, and then, all of a sudden, it stops. The wind dissipates, the leaves and dust settle and Dahlia opens her eyes once more. "It is done," she announces. "Caroline's spirit has been returned to her body. She should be waking up any minute now."

He squints slightly at her. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Have I lied to you, Niklaus? I told you already, when I give my word, I keep it. Now..." she motions towards Eve, clearly anxious to get to her.

Klaus casts a glance at his daughter. "You will protect and mentor Eve, drawing from her only what power you require to keep her safe."

"I will bond her to me first. Once I can channel Eve's power, I will be able to keep her safe from all harm, always under my protection." She tries to walk past him again, and once more Klaus stops her. The look on Dahlia's face grows angry.

"I think not," he says. "You offered an alliance that would benefit my daughter, now you wish to link to her, even though you yourself still suffer from that sleep spell. I will not lose my daughter to your affliction."

"I will use her power to free myself, as I said," Dahlia explains, getting visibly exasperated.

"And if you fail? Or if Eve is not strong enough? She is, after all, but a child. I will not condemn her to your fate, not when there is so obvious an alternative."

Dahlia narrows her eyes menacingly at him, but Klaus merely smirks, taking a step closer to his aunt. "If you require power to be immortal without the need to sleep for centuries, then why not channel one who already has eternal life? Bond yourself to me. The immortal hybrid. Once your sleep spell is broken, then, and only then... May you link yourself to Eve."

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Caroline doesn't remember dying. But when she gasps back into life, she's inside a coffin. A closed one.

She's taken with despair and horrible claustrophobia as she closes her hands into fists and starts pounding against the casket, despair growing inside of her like weed. This is a recurring nightmare she used to have when she was a child, that she’d be buried alive. But the lid gives easily at her unrelenting spanking. She sits up so fast her mind scrambles, still wrapped in gauze. Her chest ache with each sharp, quivery breath she takes, cool air penetrating her lungs like needles.

Caroline's eyes are electric as she searches around her. Her whole body feels heavy, unnaturally so, as though there's an invisible force dragging her down. She feels terribly cold, but her mind races feverishly as she tries to push through the haziness in her skull, memories slowly trickling in. Panic is crawling up her throat, threatening to take over, but for an excruciatingly long moment she doesn't know why.

When recollection finally crashes into her, it leaves her reeling. She remembers her conversation with Klaus. Leaving the compound to go back to St. James' Infirmary. And then... Dahlia.

Caroline's hand flies up to her chest almost involuntarily. She's not wearing the same clothes, someone put her in an immaculate black dress, no tear or blood stain on it. More importantly... She can feel the manic rhythm of her heart, pounding away inside her chest,  _ alive _ .

" _ How the hell... _ " she breathes out, her throat so dry it hurts to speak.

She was dead. Dahlia ripped her heart out of her chest, she remembers it clearly. The pressure. The breathlessness. The pain. Somebody changed her clothes and put her in a casket, like they expected to bury her sometime soon. How the hell is she back?

And that's when it hits her with full force, the reason why all this happened, dull and piercing like a stab to the gut -  _ Eve _ .

Caroline's head spins, an irrational fear rolling through her veins, but her focus feels suddenly sharper. As she tries to jump out of the coffin, she realizes just how weak she is. The mere effort of moving her muscles leaves her winded again, legs resisting the command to  _ walk _ as though they've forgotten how to do so. Still, primal instincts kicking in, Caroline pushes forward, staggering out of the ballroom and into the courtyard.

A horrified gasp escapes her lips, her knees growing weaker still as shock travels through her when she takes in the state of the place.

It's a warzone. Her brain registers the scene in pieces. First, she sees Camille, lying on the floor with blood all over her neck. Then she sees Gia, veins dark under ashen skin, a dagger buried in her heart. And then Elijah, unmoving despite his open eyes, glazed over and lost.

"Oh my God..." Caroline puts a hand on her mouth, gathering every ounce of strength left in her to  _ move _ .

She goes to Cami first, crouching down next to her friend. She pulls her gently up, cradling her head and holding her hair back to look at her wound. It's a nasty bite, and she looks awfully pale, must have lost a lot of blood, but Caroline can still feel a pulse. Without thinking twice, she bites on her wrist and feeds the other woman some of her blood. "Come on, come on, Cami..." she utters lowly.

It takes an awfully long few seconds for Cami to stir, her face crumpling up as she seems to register the coppery taste in her mouth, the lacerations on her neck closing.

"Oh, thank God," Caroline breathes out, sagging with relief.

Camille's green eyes go wide with something akin to shock before her brows crinkle in confusion. "Caroline?"

"Are you ok?"

She blinks slowly, pushing herself into a sitting position, one hand going up to her face, but faltering before she touches. "How...? What... Am I dead?"

"Almost. What happened here?" she asks, eyes raking around the courtyard and falling on Gia's dead body. She feels a painful tightening in her chest, clenching her jaw.

"Klaus," Cami says, still a little disoriented, touching her own neck. "He bit me."

Caroline's face snaps back to her. " _ Klaus _ bit you?"

"Yes..." Her friends' gaze seems far away all of a sudden, thoughtful creases on her forehead as though she’s trying to recall something that's just on the edge of memory. "He got inside my head. He said... I had to wake Elijah up." Both women turn to look at Elijah, still laying perfectly still. From up close, Caroline can clearly see the bloodied mess on his shirt. "He stabbed him with... uhm... Someone's blade?"

Caroline curses under her breath as she stands to her feet, kneeling down again next to Elijah. His face is perfectly blank, but the haunted look in his eyes is enough to spark some dark memories back to life. "Elijah," she coos gently, touching his face. There's not a sign of recognition. "I'm sorry. Again."

Bracing herself for courage and swallowing past the hard lump in her throat, she undoes the buttons on his shirt, pulling it open to reveal the ugly cut on his stomach, the skin around it red and swollen, dark magic working in his system like an infection. Face scrunching up into a grimace, she plunges her hand inside of him. It goes in more easily than it did the last time, but she has to dig a lot deeper in order to find the blade and pull it out. When she does, Elijah writhes as a loud, breathless grunt escapes his lips before he sags down, limp and drained, with his eyes shut.

Caroline sits back on her heels, pressing her lips tightly closed against the nausea racking her stomach.

"Did Klaus stab him too?" she asks Cami after a moment, her voice more than a little shaky around the edges.

"Yes," she replies, coming to stand beside Caroline, staring down at Elijah. "He said some things, but my memory is... It's coming back slowly." She pauses. "He said it was all a trick. That he had to make it look convincing." Caroline looks up at her with a question. "Klaus was with Dahlia."

"She captured him?"

"No... I don't think so. They were..." Cami hesitates. "Working together, I guess. I wasn't here for most of it, but I know he attacked Elijah, Rebekah, Marcel... And then me. I wasn't supposed to be here, he said. It was all part of his plan to take her down. He said... He said you had the wrong ingredients, and your weapon - or whatever it was - it wouldn't work. And..." She narrows her eyes, tilting her head. "I think he told me how to do it."

"Caroline..." Elijah croaks weakly, a deep frown on his face as he blinks at her, lifting a shaky hand that doesn't quite reach her.

"Hey," she says softly, clasping his hand between hers. "You ok?"

"I... How... How are you here?" he rasps out, his voice cracking up.

Caroline regards him pensively for a moment, her own silence weighing heavily with dread and implications inside of her.

"I don't know."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm almost afraid to ask, but... Thoughts? 🤣
> 
> I know this chapter followed the episode very closely, but there were a few modifications that were quite important! Above all, the circumstances surrounding the actions were completely different, and this was kind of the CLIMAX of all the changes I have been making to the season thus far. It's so that this precise moment would maybe feel very unlike what it did on the show and gain a whole different contour. It's the culmination of Klaus' dark descent, all of that spiraling and the paranoia that has been plaguing him since the very beginning, has come down to this. Just remember what the bottom line for actions truly is. If I did I decent job here, that has been clear, not just in this chapter, but in the past ones as well.
> 
> Also, if you have watched TO, I did major changes to what I think is the biggest moment of the "episode" (Gia's death). And of course, the final part. 😬 Hope y'all are happy to see Caroline back! She wasn't gone for that long, but it did feel like ages!
> 
> So for all of the reasons above, I'm very much looking forward to knowing what you guys think! Really hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> The lyrics in the beginning are from [The Wolf In Your Darkest Room by Matthew Mayfield](https://open.spotify.com/track/4R8oNySmWLhr5fcyo8tnE0?si=Pruvw10oTL6h9jRIVP3CEQ). Aside from thinking that song was written _for Klaus_ , it's also the song I envision for the moment when Klaus goes full cray cray (you know the one).
> 
> I conducted a sort-of-survey on tumblr about how frequently I should update this story. I was kind of looking forward to being done with it as soon as possible, but most people agreed that I should keep the updates at once every two weeks. I know it's been less than two weeks since my last update, but I wanted to switch to weekend updates, so I'm a few days early. If anyone here has an opinion on this and would like to share, please! :) Drop me a note with your "vote", I guess. 😆
> 
> Anyway, let me know if you have liked it, if you'd like to express your thoughts, to vote for your favored update frequency or just to let me know you're still reading this after 21 chapters! :) 
> 
> Next chapter is The Originals season finale! 😬 Can't believe I've made it this far.


	22. S02E22 Ashes to Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have finally made it to the season finale of my rewriting of The Originals S2! 😳 Honestly, there were many times I did not think I'd be making it this far. Thank you so much to all of you who have stuck with the story and left me all your lovely comments. ❤️ You truly pushed me to keep going even when things got tough!
> 
> If I was really mean, I would leave it here, but since I'm not, we have nine more chapters to go after this. :D Still, this will very much read like a finale. So I'll be very much hoping to hear your thoughts on how this season went! This is, after all, where The Originals stays.
> 
> I know I sort of asked/half promised quicker updates, but I had some technical issues with my computer that was a chaos and a half. Hopefully, things will be calmer going forward. 😑 Because of that, I don't have Microsoft Office at the moment, and so I have to thank Eve's number one fan, **recyclingss** , for kindly offering her time to fix my dumb mistakes. ❤️ Thank you! 
> 
> I have LOADS to talk about, but I'm leaving it to the end of the chapter! Really hope you guys enjoy this. :) And if you do, don't forget to drop me a note and hit the kudos button if you haven't yet. ❤️ Cheers!

* * *

_Love was my shoreline_  
_I stare myself blind_  
_Now was not our time_  
_No, I let you down_

* * *

"You're quiet," Dahlia says, not looking up from where she's preparing her spell. "Are you having misgivings?"

Klaus is quiet, indeed, but above all he is restless. When he suggested Dahlia should link to him instead of Eve in order to break out of her sleep spell, he thought they'd first return to the French Quarter, to the bell tower at the cathedral, or perhaps that tomb at Lafayette Cemetery. He wasn't aware that evil ancient witches simply carry basic items for emergency incantations with them.

Dahlia conjured whatever she needed and got to work, not wasting a second. Rock salt, candles, bowls. She took his blood, her blood, and has been, for the past twenty minutes, setting it all on a table - which she also made magically appear. Just as she did with Freya, whom Klaus wasn't aware had been brought with them, in the trunk of his car, when they set out after the Crescents.

Already this represents a potential problem, being this far from the French Quarter. But he can't exactly demonstrate his general displeasure; instead, he demonstrates impatience.

"I was just looking for a polite way to ask what the hell is taking so long," he retorts moodily.

"Well, we can begin now," she gestures towards the table. "Once we're linked, I won't have to sleep for one hundred years again. Your concerns for my status will ease and I will finally be able to focus on Eve." Klaus shifts uncomfortably, casting a look at his daughter, taking a nap in her baby car seat. "I will only require a single drop of her blood, and then her power shall be mine."

He notices Dahlia's fixed gaze on his daughter. The way that woman looks at her, like she's a meal to be consumed, makes his stomach churn. Her lips twist into an ugly smile, something vile burning behind her eyes. It’s how Klaus looks at most people, to be honest; humans are, first and foremost, food. But this isn’t just anyone; it’s his daughter. He doesn’t need an excuse to be partial towards his own child.

Klaus stands up straight and positions himself in her line of sight. If he fails here, everything will be lost. He only has one chance to make this work - and he needs to trust that, on his end, Elijah will fulfill the part Klaus has assigned to him. Hopefully, with Caroline there to help.

"What do you want to do about Freya?" he asks, bobbing his head towards his sister. She's not dead, he can hear her heart beating, but she's been out cold for a long time. Whatever Dahlia did to her, it must've been awful. 

"She served her purpose," Dahlia replies, waving her hand dismissively. "At the moon's apex, I'll end her life, and once our link is severed, the bond that I share with your daughter will become permanent."

Klaus purses his lips. "Best get on with it, then."

He walks towards her, eyes raking over the table where she has the spell set. Dahlia offers him a hand, and he only hesitates for a second longer before taking it. With a flick of her wrist, all the candles light up, and when she starts to chant in that indecipherable language of hers, Klaus immediately feels the effects. He's struck by a sudden dizziness, his knees growing weak under his weight as this strange force pools at the center of his chest. Slowly, it starts spreading, flowing through him.

Well, this is it, then. It better bloody work, otherwise he's not only giving Dahlia his daughter... He's also giving her unbridled access to his own power.

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Caroline's lip quivers for the billionth time. She bites down on it, concentrating instead on inhaling, exhaling. The air still leaves her lungs choked up, but that's as far as she'll allow herself to go.

She's not going to cry. She can't.

She can feel the can of worms twitching inside of her, ready to burst open. She's afraid of the hidden things that might come spilling out. Afraid that it will overwhelm her exactly when she cannot allow herself to be overwhelmed.

She just died and was mysteriously brought back to life. She is weak and hungry and her head is spinning, but if she lets all this settle down and take root, she'll become paralyzed with panic. Klaus has gone batshit crazy, attacked his entire family, killed half a dozen people and joined forces with the evil witch trying to steal their daughter. And no one knows where he is.

If Caroline falters now, the world will fucking end. 

It's a herculean effort to keep her bearings given the circumstances, but she doesn't have a choice.

The silence in the courtyard is ominous and heavy, and it makes her sick just how well she knows this kind of quietness, all of its razor-sharp edges. She's felt it before. It's not _really_ quiet at all. She can hear the roar of her own anger pounding in her ears, can hear the muted sound of Elijah's burning rage next to her, the deafening absence of Gia's heartbeat, her body still lying on the ground before them. All they could do was find a sheet to cover her, grant her a modicum of dignity, however feeble.

Elijah's face is a scorched field, devastated with grief and fury. Something has most definitely shifted in him. Caroline doesn't think she's ever seen him like this before. She'd never had a glimpse of the fabled monster behind the red door, found it hard to even imagine it. That's him, right there. The Elijah who is capable of doing just about anything - including murder family members with his bare hands. Gone is that strong sense of sanctuary and assurance he exuded; now he’s more like a grenade that hasn’t detonated. Any sudden movements and _boom_.

This feels... Surreal. Caroline's suddenly gripped with the need to place her hand on her chest and confirm that she is alive, that this is the real world. Her heart beats with an off-set rhythm, and she can almost feel the shards of its broken pieces rattling away behind her ribcage. Alive, but barely. Painfully so.

"There you go," Cami says gently, offering blood bags to her and Elijah. She was tasked with going down to their stash while they tried to pull themselves together.

"Thank you," she says. Elijah remains silent, his dark eyes never leaving Gia. 

"Are you sure you're... I don't know... Ok?" her friend asks, wringing her hands together as her eyes cut back to Caroline, filled with concern. "Alive?"

"Technically, I haven't been alive for a long time," Caroline offers. "But if you're asking if I feel any different than before... No. Just hungry." She takes the bag up to her mouth, sinking her teeth into it. Normally, Caroline wouldn't feed in front of Cami, not like this. She hates to let other people - normal people - see the monster. But the situation requires a surrender of civility in the name of practicality. Even if it still makes her terribly self-conscious.

She licks her lips when she's done, catching a wayward drop with her thumb. "How's your neck?" she asks Camille.

"Good as new," she says, though the lightness of her comment doesn't reach her eyes. She's still shaken, Caroline can see, her hand going almost involuntarily to the spot where Klaus' fangs had lacerated. His hybrid bite is uglier than other vampires'. Camille is putting on a strong front, trying to make herself useful, but she's terrified. Caroline wishes she could pull her friend into a tight embrace and tell her to go home and not to worry because everything will be fine, but she just... Can't find it in her to be optimistic while her daughter is out there, being chased by her maniac father and his aunt from hell.

"So now that you have healed," Elijah speaks all of a sudden, startling the two of them as he stands to his feet. Some color has returned to his cheeks, the hollow, sunken aspect of his eyes gone, but the steel in them remains unaltered as he fixes Camille under a hard stare. "What exactly did Niklaus tell you?"

"He said I had to convince you he has a plan, and that it'll work, but that he had to make it look convincing for Dahlia."

"He has a plan... _We had a plan_!" Elijah lashes out, exploding into bitter anger. "A plan he has mercilessly destroyed!"

"Elijah," Caroline admonishes as she stands up, planting herself between him and Camille. Not that she actually fears he'll do anything to her - at least, she doesn't think he would - but he's snapping at the wrong person. It's not her fault.

Elijah grunts in frustration, scrubbing a hand across his face.

"He said your plan wouldn't have worked," Cami continues. "When he got into my head, he said your plan would fail, so he had to enact one of his own."

"And what might that be?" Elijah demands, clearly putting an effort into reigning in his own temper.

"He has to get Dahlia to link to him."

Elijah's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in disbelief. "My brother wishes to bind himself to our enemy? Make her virtually indestructible?"

"You had the wrong ingredients to kill her, and that was a way to buy time before you find the right ones."

"How?"

"He said..." Cami's face creases, her memories still scrambled from having Klaus planting messages inside her head. "To have the correct ingredients, you need to dig up your mother's body... And bring her back to life."

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Pain rolls through Klaus, crushing his lungs. His whole body goes rigid, energy coursing through him like an electric discharge. He clenches his teeth against the force, grunting loudly. It lasts for a moment, and then it's gone, leaving him winded and dizzy and shaken to his bones. Klaus holds on to the car behind him for support, drawing deep breaths in.

Almost immediately he feels different. His skin is prickling, itching, like something's crawled underneath it. He knows without a doubt that it worked, that his power doesn't belong only to himself anymore. It reminds him of those terrible full moon nights back when the Guerrera wolves had those enchanted rings, only this feels deeper still. It's not as draining, but the pull is stronger.

He is suddenly hit by something he hadn't yet felt since this whole thing began - since this plan was put into motion, the second he woke up in that casket with a dagger through his heart. Something he hadn’t yet had time to feel because there was so much to be done. Because Caroline was dead and nothing else mattered if he couldn’t bring her back: fear.

Dahlia lets out a sound that is almost erotic in how pleased it is. It makes Klaus want to rip off his ears. She tilts her head to one side, then the other, stretching out her arms as though getting comfortable in new clothes.

"With your strength, I will never need to sleep for a century again," she asserts with immense satisfaction.

Klaus looks at Eve, a flicker of purpose igniting inside of him. He puts his hand inside his jacket, fingers closing around the hilt of the golden dagger, its power making him tremble. "Well, perhaps one more nap, then," he says, and before Dahlia can even grasp what he's about to do, he is pushing the dagger into his own heart, grinding his teeth against the paralyzing pain.

When he falls on his knees, Dahlia does as well. And when he feels darkness closing in around him, the only thing that comforts him is knowing that he's not going into it alone. For as long as he stays there, it shall be Dahlia's prison as well.

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"Where is he now?" Elijah strives to keep his voice even, but his anger has escaped its leash and it's all he can do not to bark at Camille's face.

"I-I don't know," Camille stammers. "He said he would be with Eve."

He narrows his eyes at her, tilting his head to the side. "He allowed Dahlia near his daughter?"

Caroline shakes her head helplessly, clamping a hand over her mouth. "This was all part of her plan," she rasps out. "Dahlia said she needed me, that I was the tipping point to pit you against Klaus. She _wanted_ you to think that a werewolf killed me."

"What do you mean?"

"She killed me, Elijah. Dahlia cornered me after I left here, and she ripped my heart out to make it look like -"

"It was retribution for Aiden's murder," he finishes for her, cold comprehension dawning on him as the pieces of the puzzle finally come together.

"Klaus didn't kill Aiden. It was her. It was all her. She wanted to turn us against him, isolate him, and then lure him to her cause. And she killed me -"

"So she could bargain with him."

"And if I'm back..." her voice cracks up and she swallows back the rest of her sentence. There's no need to finish it.

If she's back, it means Dahlia got what she wanted from Niklaus.

Caroline sinks down on the chair, burying her face in her hands.

"But if he has a plan, then maybe he knows what he's doing, right?" Camille says, offering a different perspective. "He's not going to just give up his own child to an evil witch... Is he?"

Her bright optimism might've been a welcome reprieve from the general bleakness at one point; right now, however, it just sets Elijah's teeth on edge, makes him shake with anger. If she hasn't understood the evil Niklaus is capable of yet, she hasn't been paying attention.

He motions a hand towards Gia, her fire and her strong personality now reduced to nothing more than an indistinguishable volume under a white sheet. "You tell me."

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"Jackson is not answering," Caroline says, exasperation creeping into her voice as she paces around the courtyard, phone glued to her ear. Each time her call goes directly to voicemail, she feels her heart drop. She even tried a few of the other wolves she knows, but no one is answering. Not even Mary. This cannot be right.

"I'm sure Klaus will do whatever he has to -" Cami starts in a placating tone, but Elijah cuts her off with a near scream.

"Klaus will do whatever he has to do for Klaus!" he roars furiously. Cami flinches, her eyes widening with alarm.

Before Caroline can step in, Rebekah marches into the courtyard. _Rebekah_ , not Eva Sinclair. "Don't blame the messenger," she says in her natural smooth lilt, Marcel right on her heels. She balks when she sees Caroline, her forehead creasing with shock. "Bloody hell, are you a ghost?"

"I could tell you the same thing," Caroline replies. "How are you back in your body?"

"Nik. How are you _alive_?"

Caroline pauses. "Same, I guess."

"Looks like Niklaus had a lot on his to-do list last night," Rebekah mutters, shaking her head. "I heard you mention Jackson. About him..." She exchanges a somber look with Marcel.

"What is it?" Caroline prods, taking a step forward.

"When Klaus attacked me, he compelled the spell I used on the Crescent wolves out of me," Marcel reveals.

"What?" Caroline blinks, fear scratching at her voice. "He had Dahlia curse them back into their wolf forms?"

Rebekah strides over to her, putting her hands on her shoulders and catching her eyes. "Listen to me," she starts, her voice as soft as Caroline's ever heard. "Jackson will be human once a month. We will find him and we will help him, just as you did the first time. We need to focus on those who need saving today."

She lets out a disgruntled breath, her shoulders dropping under Rebekah's hands. "Eve."

Rebekah nods once, hands sliding down to Caroline's arms before she lets go. "Freya called," she starts, turning back to face Elijah as well. "She has Eve. Nik managed to incapacitate Dahlia. They're two hours north at an orchard near Pearl River. She can't drive, so somebody needs to go pick them up."

Rebekah hasn't even finished talking and Caroline and Elijah are already whooshing out of the compound.

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Elijah hasn't even stopped the car before Caroline jumps out. As soon as they spot Freya, standing by a pickup truck with the baby in her arms, she opens the door and runs the rest of the way at full vampire speed. Elijah follows right after.

"I thought you were dead," Freya is saying, forehead creased with bafflement as Caroline takes the baby from her, pulling her little girl close to her chest.

"Join the club," she replies.

Freya turns to Elijah with a question in her eyes. He just shakes his head. There'll be time to discuss these matters once they've made Dahlia's death permanent.

"Well, that's great, I guess," Freya says with a light shrug. "Anyway. My adage holds. Nothing good ever happens in a clearing in the woods."

"Nothing good ever happens where my brother is concerned," Elijah corrects, and then he adds. "With one exception." He approaches Caroline, placing a gentle kiss on his niece's head. 

"She seems to be ok," Freya offers. "A little bothered, probably. But she's a Mikaelson. She's resilient."

"I doubt that's her Mikaelson blood speaking," Elijah retorts, sourly. "What about him?"

Freya steps aside, waving a hand towards the back of the truck. Elijah and Caroline take a step closer. Niklaus and Dahlia are lying side by side, both of them out cold. His brother has the gold dagger in his heart, his body completely desiccated.

"Did he stab himself?" he asks.

"I don't know. I didn't see it. But he must have, there was no one else there. He lured Dahlia into a trap."

So that was his plan, then. Make her link herself to him instead of Eve and then put himself to sleep using the dagger. It was a gamble, there was no way to know whether the dagger would have the same effect on her, but it seems Niklaus' mad scheming has paid off. He did put the witch down. But at what cost? Did he really have to punish the Crescents by cursing them back into their wolf forms? Did he have to force Rebekah to choose between killing herself or letting Marcel do it? Did Gia have to die? The more Elijah thinks about it, the more he realizes Niklaus trailed a path of destruction purely out of retribution. He was hurt, so he wanted to hurt them back, tenfold.

All Niklaus had to do was trust them - him, Rebekah, Caroline - and they would've stood by him, even against Freya. But he couldn't do that, couldn't put his faith in his own family, the people who loved him the most.

"I thought daggers didn't work on him," Caroline speaks after a moment, shielding the baby's head so she won't see her father lying dead on the back of the truck.

"This one's special," Elijah explains. "Kol's creation. He and Davina made it before he passed away and she gave it to Marcel after Aiden's death. I used it on him."

Caroline arches her eyebrows. "He was daggered?"

"For a while. Until Dahlia freed him." She peers at him disapprovingly, her expression colored with judgement. "We thought he was out of control," Elijah justifies. "After you died, and we all believed it had been payback from one of the werewolves... I accepted he needed to be stopped. There's no telling what he would've done. For a moment, I almost regretted it." _Almost_ being the key word. After the damage Niklaus has caused... Elijah's not sure he regrets anything, anymore. And to think he was ready to grovel for his brother's forgiveness once this was all over... "What exactly happened here?" he turns to Freya, trying to stir the conversation back to the point.

"When I woke, they were like this. Rebekah tells me Klaus has a plan to kill Dahlia, that he knew ours wouldn't have worked."

"According to him, our ingredients were incorrect."

Freya nods, a flicker of hurt in her eyes. "My blood. Dahlia told me, right before she put me down. I was not the witch she loved the most."

"The honor of being the one who broke Dahlia's heart belongs to our beloved mother."

"So we need Esther's blood," Caroline concludes.

"That's impossible," Freya counters, a hint of urgency in her tone. "She's dead. I killed her."

"One incarnation," Elijah says, and when she cocks her head to him in doubt, he continues, not hiding his own discontentment. "Our mother is buried in New Orleans. Niklaus wants us to retrieve the original body... And bring her back."

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"Nik is demented," Rebekah declares, watching as Marcel pokes her brother's face with a finger. She thought she'd be angrier at him, that she'd feel vindicated seeing him down for possibly a long time, after what he did to her and to Elijah. But even after his betrayals and his cruel _lessons_ , it still turns her stomach inside out to see Nik basically dead. The demented brother and the idiotic sister who feels sorry for him. What a pair they are.

"Tell me something I don't know, Rebekah," Elijah deadpans.

As angry and hurt as she is at Nik, it’s nothing compared to Elijah. There's something hard about him, something... Dead. Like a flame has gone out. The part of him that felt compassion for Nik, that still cared for him despite all his wrongdoings. Rebekah is the one who stood by Nik the longest, but no one has ever supported or understood him the way Elijah has. No more, it seems. Niklaus has finally crossed a line. It makes her wonder what will be left of their family once this is all over. Not much, by the looks of it.

"Are we really to dig up our mother, burn her to ash and then convince Davina to use up her only chance to tap into the power the ancestors have granted by making her regent? Waste our best chance to save Kol - _if_ Davina doesn't turn us inside out," Rebekah argues.

"Or we dig up a deep hole and leave both our problems at the bottom of it," Elijah offers, eyes darting between Klaus and Dahlia's bodies, both of them lying on the floor of the ballroom.

"I say we choose a more permanent option," Freya offers, stepping forward. "Find the white oak stake, kill Klaus, Dahlia dies with him."

"Yeah, and so do I," Marcel protests. "And every other vampire that Klaus has ever turned in the last one thousand years."

Rebekah looks across to Elijah, expecting him to weigh in, to shut down Freya's ludicrous suggestion, but he remains quiet, expression perfectly blank.

Before she can offer her own two cents, she notices something... weird. Rebekah takes a step closer to Nik, squinting her eyes at the dagger in his chest. "Is that... bloody melting?"

Elijah crouches down beside their brother to assess the situation. "This dagger won't hold him down for long. We have no choice but to finish the task Niklaus has set for us," he states somberly, and she can tell that the idea sounds thin even to his own ears.

Just as it finally seemed as though things were starting to look brighter for them, it all gets a thousand times worse. Not only have they run out of options, they're also on a clock.

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"Oh, isn't this lovely," Rebekah states with a bite in her voice while Elijah pulls their mother's casket from the ground. "Fresh air, the birds are singing in the trees... Perfect day to dig up mommy dearest’s corpse." She hands the gas gallon over to him.

They need to turn their mother to ash, or as close to it as possible. Davina intends to resurrect Kol using his ashes, and Elijah has a feeling that reasoning with her won't be enough. He doesn't blame the little witch; he wouldn't be doing this if he thought there was any other choice. Unfortunately, however, time is running out rather swiftly, which leaves them with the sour task of having to trick Davina. There will be consequences, for certain; that's yet another enemy for life they'll be making, and one who's just become a lot stronger, as the new leader of the nine covens of New Orleans. But that's something to be dwelled upon later, once Dahlia is gone and Eve is safe.

"Perfect day to carry out the assignment of a lunatic," he retorts darkly.

"What's that saying? A madman often speaks the truth?" Rebekah muses. Elijah decides not to engage in that argument. The madman in question couldn't be further away from that saying. "What do you think he offered Dahlia in exchange for Caroline's life?"

"His daughter, of course. What else could he offer her?"

"His allegiance? His own power? They ended up linked, after all. I don't want to believe Nik would bargain away his own child."

"Clearly he believed there was a way to stop this before she could collect."

"But if Dahlia dies... Won't he die as well?"

"I don't know, Rebekah," he says around an impatient exhale. "I have no idea what goes through our deranged brother's head. All I know is, we have no time to question it. He didn't even leave us that. If he dies, he dies."

Rebekah's lips twist into a pout. "Am I crazy for not wanting him dead, after all he's done?"

"Yes," Elijah replies flatly.

"Dahlia fooled him just as she fooled the rest of us. She wanted him to take the blame for Aiden's death and she wanted us all to think that the werewolves were behind Caroline’s murder. Nik was halfway to loony town already, with Caroline gone... Dahlia had him exactly where she wanted. Highly motivated, vengeful and out for blood. She had been watching us for ages. Nik’s paranoia made it all too obvious where his weakest spot lies. That wench knew there was no way he'd ever turn down a chance to bring Caroline back."

"I might've been inclined to forgive him and even concede, however reluctantly, that he'd had some reason after all, even if his methods were decidedly reproachable. I might even apologize for accusing him of crimes he did not commit but would gladly take the blame for." Elijah pauses as images appear unbidden in his mind. Gia's eyes as she tried so hard to resist the compulsion, apologizing for not being able to, the stifled despair as she drove the dagger through her own heart... "Whatever my reservations regarding Jackson Kenner, he wanted nothing more than to help protect our niece. He ran with her on Caroline's request, and I could not fault her reasoning. It was a good plan, and it would've remained so, had Niklaus not aided Dahlia in locating his daughter. And Gia..." He bites down on his lip against the twinge in his heart. "She was innocent. Innocence does not go well with our family."

He turns away from the compassion in Rebekah's eyes, occupying himself with dowsing their mother's casket with gasoline, lest he allows for his grief to get the best of him when there's still so much to be done.

"Even with all that," Rebekah speaks again after a moment. "I'm glad that idiot managed to get Caroline back."

"That's the one redeeming fact in all of his sordid scheming."

His sister lets out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms over her chest as she casts a despondent look at the casket. "Can't help but think we should be using this opportunity to bring back Kol and not that daft bitch."

"You speak as if it's a foregone conclusion. Let's not forget, we still have to successfully deceive Davina Claire. So perhaps we steal a page from Niklaus' playbook. She will help us... If she has no idea she is helping us."

Rebekah shakes her head, a grim expression on her face. "She will never forgive us."

"I'm well aware, sister. But I'm willing to live with her contempt if it means saving my niece."

"I said I'd stay in my witch body until I brought Kol back. Now I've broken my promise and I am actively conspiring to shanghai Davina of her one chance to revive him herself. I feel like such a traitor... I gave him my word."

"You are not to blame, Rebekah."

"I know. Nik wasn't just trying to break my promise to Kol. That might've been the least of his concerns. Because of his spite, I am once again robbed of the chance to live a mortal life."

Elijah turns to his sister, looking her dead in the eye. "Understand something, Rebekah. Niklaus didn't just put on a show for the sake of convincing Dahlia of his intentions. He went on a punishment tour across the city, exercising revenge against those he believed had wronged him. He never had to kill Gia, just as he didn't have to leave you with no choice but to return to your body. That was his personal gift to us."

"I suppose that's a family trait." Rebekah takes a lighter from her back pocket, ignites the flame and then throws it at the casket, watching as fire consumes their mother's remains. "Everything we love... We turn to ash."

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In hindsight, Marcel should've gone with Elijah to dig up Esther's body. Hell, he would rather do it on his own, with his bare hands, than stand here and watch as Freya’s attempts to slow down the melting dagger fail, one after the other. She must be on her tenth spell already and nothing seems to take, not even a little bit.

As if his own growing anxiety wasn't enough, he can feel the lost Mikaelson getting exponentially more antsy as well. Her hands are shaking, her eyes are bright with fear, her heart rate is over the roof. She has a look about her that Marcel knows only too well, like she would do absolutely anything to stop her aunt from coming back, which includes killing her own brother. They have to save the baby, yes, but keeping Klaus alive is kind of a big fucking deal, too. If he dies, then so do half the vampires in New Orleans, including Marcel. And he's not ready to die just yet.

"It's no use," Freya huffs out in frustration after yet another failed attempt, her shoulders sagging in surrender. "I can't slow down her magic. I've tried everything I knew, none of it works."

Marcel opens his mouth to reply - tell her to stay calm, to keep trying, to channel him, if she has to - but then he hears something. A low whisper, and then the sound of wood creaking. When he looks up, he sees Dahlias are growing on the walls, spreading fast.

He curses under his breath. "There's gotta be a way to kill her."

Freya is quiet for a moment. "There is," she says, sounding a lot calmer than she should.

Marcel's eyes widen in horror when he realizes she has the white oak stake. "Freya, no!" he tries to stop her, but she shoves him away with magic, sending him flying across the room. "Freya, don't!" he hollers as he picks himself up, his head spinning from the crash. "Don't do it! You kill him, you kill me, too!"

"I don't want to kill you!" Freya screams, her voice trickling into a sob as she looks down at her brother. "I don't want to kill him! This is the family I longed for... But because of her... I'll forever be alone."

She closes her hands around the stake, grunting as she drives it down. Marcel feels his own heart stuttering to a stop, but the stake never pierces Klaus' chest.

"Sister..." he croaks, his voice barely above a rasp as he wakes from his slumber, closing a shaky hand around Freya's wrist. She lets out a gasp, dropping the stake to the ground.

"Great timing, man," he breathes out, relief washing through him. "Let's not do this again."

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Rebekah gulps thickly when she sees her mother, remorse rattling around her stomach. Esther looks like a goddess, with her cold beauty and a sheet haphazardly wrapped around her. Hel, the goddess of the dead, maybe. Alive and kicking in all her original glory.

Rebekah expected to be more relieved to find that their plan worked to perfection; instead, she feels sick. She lured Davina out of the tomb where she'd been working on her spell to resurrect Kol, tried to reason with her about the need to bring back Esther, but she wouldn't budge. Rebekah knew she would say no. Of course she would. When had they ever done anything for that girl? While Rebekah distracted her with empty pleas, Elijah sneaked into her lair and exchanged Kol's ashes for Esther's. If she had more than enough reason to despise them before, she is now more than certain to want them all dead.

The poor girl traded everything to become the witches' regent just so she could have access to the kind of power needed to bring someone back from the dead, and they mercilessly hijacked her once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Rebekah is no stranger to this kind of betrayal, having someone take over the reins of your life, dictate your destiny, use you... It's hard to tell who she feels worse for, Davina or Kol.

She likes to think her brother would understand, that he would want them to save his niece, too. But the truth is... She doesn't know that he would. Not like this, anyway. Not by betraying Davina.

"What did you do?!" Davina grinds out at her angrily, her eyes filled with hurt when she finally notices Rebekah's presence.

"It wasn't Rebekah," Elijah says, flashing into the tomb and going straight to their mother, slapping the infamous magic-binding manacles around her wrists. Esther still seems a little lost, her eyes somewhat glazed over, shifting on her feet as though she'd forgotten how to use her legs. Rebuilding a body literally from ashes must be a nasty business.

" _You_ did this?" Davina demands, directing her anger towards him.

"It was a rather simple matter, actually. I exchanged the ashes while you broke my sister's bones and left her dead outside."

Davina's hands ball into white-knuckled fists beside her body, angry tears streaming down her face. "That was my only chance! That was Kol's only chance! He is your brother! Now I know why he hates all of you!"

The little witch puts her hands forward, ready to strike Elijah with all her might. The air in the tomb shimmers, becoming flaming hot, but before she can unleash her anger upon her brother, Rebekah grabs Davina from behind, an arm around her neck in a sleeper choke until she passes out. "I'm so sorry, love," she whispers, gently laying her down. "I promise we will get Kol back. Just not today."

"What is going on here?" Esther finally speaks in that unmistakable haughty tone of hers, finally recovered from her post-resurrection daze. Her eyebrows slashed together in a severe expression. Somehow, she manages to keep her poise even wearing barely anything.

"Glad you could join us at last, mother," Rebekah cuts in sourly as she takes off her coat and sets it on top of Davina. "Welcome back. Now be a darling and make all this mess worth it, will you?"

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Once this is all over, Klaus will have time to realize how close he got to being murdered by Freya just now. If he believed in such things, he'd say it was divine provision what brought him back to his senses in the nick of time.

She helps him up, her eyes bright with tears and wide with the realization of what almost happened. It's astounding that she still has it in her to feel guilty after how he's treated her. Perhaps he hasn't given Freya due credit, or been entirely fair. She may still be a stranger to him, but her plight certainly resonates. Her despair to rid herself of the demon who's used and cursed her for a lifetime was a close companion to him for the better part of a millennium.

When this is all over, if they do ever get out of this unscathed... They might yet find a way to be a family, after all. Assuming he'll still have one, that is.

Klaus' legs feel unsteady, his movements sluggish. He has to hold on to his sister for support. But he's not nearly as famished or as weak as he was when he woke up from the dagger last time, which means he wasn't under its spell for as long as he assumed he would be. He was ready to spend ages in a coffin, maybe even years, definitely a few days, at the very least. But it seems as though it's been mere hours.

Something's gone wrong.

"I'm almost impressed by the lengths you'd go to for your little girl. Though not enough to let bygones be bygones," Dahlia says, her eyes flashing as she appears before him. Freya winces, hardening her grip around his arm. Klaus puts a hand on top of his sister's and takes a step forward.

With a wave of her wrist, Dahlia steals the white oak stake he had in his hand, aiming it towards his heart. While Klaus is clearly under the weather, she seems to be perfectly fine. Even put down to sleep, she still managed to find a way around the dagger's magic, and it hasn't affected her at all.

"You might not want to punish me with that particular weapon, dear aunt," he says, chin jutted forward and a slight smirk flickering upon his lips. "We are still linked."

Dahlia makes a humming noise. "I made sure that the link between us melted along with the dagger. Meaning..." She puts another hand forward. "I'm quite free to kill you."

She closes her hands and pulls it close to her chest, and Klaus is immediately drawn forward, an invisible force, impossible to resist, dragging him towards the stake. He grunts, gritting his teeth, trying desperately to stick his foot to the ground, but it's useless. He's too weak to fight it. The stake is almost to his chest when something - no, not something; someone - flies out of nowhere, throwing themselves against him. Klaus sees nothing but a shadowy figure as he's pushed to the ground, landing hard with someone else's weight on top of him. It cuts the effect of Dahlia's magic, breaking the connection.

When he lifts his head, he sees a mane of blonde hair.

His heart lurches to his throat. “Caroline,” he breathes out. She pushes herself off him, her blue gaze dark in the dim light, and Klaus feels his blood racing in a dizzying rush. He knew she would be alive - or at least he believed so, or he wouldn't have come this far - but to see her there, the light back in her eyes, heart hammering away in her chest... For a second, Klaus forgets everything else - Dahlia, the white oak, the plan - his whole world narrowing down to the woman before him.

Slowly, hesitating, part of him still afraid that she might vanish before his eyes, turn to dust before he reaches her, he lifts a hand to her face. His fingertips barely graze her cheek in a feather-like caress, and Klaus revels in the warmth radiating off of her. She was so cold the last time he touched her... He expels a heavy breath, the deepest, most honest kind of relief flooding his veins.

The moment is interrupted when they hear a whooshing sound, both of their heads whipping to where Dahlia was a second before. Both her and Freya have gone. A beat later, and they hear the sound of their daughter crying. In a flash, the two of them are up and bursting into the baby's room. It's completely taken with plants, growing all around the walls and over the crib, huge black dahlias blooming and filling the place with a sickening sweet perfume. Klaus allows himself to relax but a fraction when he sees that Eve is there, huge eyes scared as she fusses, afraid of the ivy plants.

Caroline takes her in her arms, pulling her close to her chest as she coos gently to their daughter. "It's ok, baby girl... It's ok. Shh... Mommy's here." When their eyes meet, however, he sees the very unsettling dread unfurling in his stomach reflected on her. Almost at the same time, the two of them are attracted by the faint scent of blood, masked by the flowers' perfume. It's coming from Eve's index finger, a tiny little pearl of blood on the tip.

Dahlia's voice rings like a curse in his head.

_"I will only need a single drop of her blood, and then her power shall be mine."_

Marcel appears on the door, eyes cutting from him to Caroline and the baby with a question. "Why didn't she take Eve?"

"Because all she needed was a drop of her blood to take her spell forward,” Klaus says eerily, watching as a muscle twitches on Caroline's face. She pulls the baby closer still. "Unfortunately, I have no idea where the vile harpy has fled to."

"All right," Marcel says, taking a step into the room. "You two go. Get Eve some place safe. I'll track down your witch. And Klaus." Marcel waits until he's looking. "When this is over, you and I are gonna settle up."

He nods slowly. "Provided we survive what's to come tonight, I look forward to it."

Marcel jets out of the room, leaving just the three of them. Klaus stops for a second, considering Caroline, allowing once more for it to sink in that she's alright, alive. There's a world of things he wants to say, but suddenly he finds himself muted.

"We need to go," she speaks, bringing him back to the moment. "Let's grab everything we need and get the hell out.”

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They spend the whole car trip to St. James' Infirmary in frosty silence. The quietness presses down on her, heavy with all the things they're not saying, but Caroline keeps her lips tightly sealed. If Klaus feels as bothered as she does, he does not show, simply drives on while she keeps shooting nervous looks to the back seat. Despite all the tension simmering between her parents, Eve has fallen asleep. The poor thing must be exhausted from all this mess.

The jazz club is completely deserted, just the two of them and their runaway baby. Last time she was here, it had been crowded with werewolves tasked with protecting her daughter. Their absence hits her like a punch to the gut, a cold creeping up from the floor to spread through her like guilt.

She puts the car seat down on the counter, trying to draw some much-needed peace from her daughter's sleeping figure. She wonders if this mess will leave a mark on her, if she'll somehow carry the horrors of the past so many weeks for the rest of her life as a trauma, even if she won't be able to remember it. She's so little and already Eve has been through so much. Caroline can't help but feel responsible. It’s her job as a mother to keep her child out of harm’s way.

"The magic here still stands," Klaus informs her, putting down the baby bag he brought with him from the car. "Marcel assured me. It’s weak, but still in place since Dahlia has set her sights elsewhere.”

Caroline hums in acknowledgment but doesn't look at him. She feels him shuffling closer.

"You haven't said a word to me since we left the compound," he says. "I assume that means you're upset. Go on, then. Have your piece."

Her gaze swings up at him. There are so many things at once rushing through her head that it's hard to even process. Caroline is glad to see Klaus. She is glad he is back. She is thrilled to be alive herself, and she doesn't think Elijah was right to dagger him while his daughter was being chased by Dahlia, no matter how crazy he might've been. At the same time... She can't help that she feels the weight of all the things he's done in the process. Gia. Jackson. Rebekah. Marcel. The trail of cruelties he left behind is long and bloody and Caroline simply doesn't know how to dwell on that.

"I don't know what to say to you," she replies honestly, but her voice comes out more acid than she intended.

"You could start with a thank you," Klaus says, measured words covering up a bite.

Caroline puts a hand on his chest, pushes him back until they're far enough away from the sleeping baby, and then fixes him under a stern glare. "You expect me to thank you? For what part, exactly? Murdering your brother's girlfriend right before his eyes? Forcing Rebekah to kill herself so Marcel wouldn't have to do it? Oh yes, thank you so much, Klaus, for putting yet another terrible, vile curse on the Crescents after they spent decades trying to rid themselves of the last one," she shoots at him, doing her best to keep her voice down, but not disguising the bitterness.

Klaus' whole face curls with irritation. "I had to make it seem as though I cared for nothing! For no one! Or Dahlia would've never believed my intentions.”

"Well, congratulations. You were _extremely_ convincing."

"I was trying to bring you back, Caroline," he seethes hotly.

"Don't pin this on me!"

"You were dead!" he retorts with exasperation, his eyes sparking wildly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"It was not the wolves who killed me, Klaus! It was _Dahlia_ ! She _wanted_ you to overreact, she was _counting_ on it, and it worked! By acting like a _lunatic_ , you played right into her hands!"

Klaus clamps his mouth shut, some of his fire visibly dimming. "I suspected so," he speaks in a much milder tone. "I wasn't certain, but I don't think she would have offered that as a bargain if it hadn't been her idea. I take it she's the one behind Aiden's death as well."

"Wait," Caroline says, narrowing her eyes to slits in sheer disbelief. "You knew everything, and you _still_ had her put that curse on them?"

"It's precisely because I believed they were innocent that I had her curse them. If I thought they were behind your death, there would be no more Crescents left to be cursed," Klaus spits back sharply. "I would've killed every last one of them. Those idiots were ready to fight me to the end. Your beloved Jackson would've never let me take Eve. I cursed them so they wouldn't have to die."

Caroline is taken with the urge to slap him across the face, something bitter rising inside of her. "You speak as if that was a mercy. As if you'd been _gracious_ . Those people were fighting your aunt to protect your daughter with their lives. They never had to do that, it wasn't their fight, it wasn't their family, but they didn't care. They didn't _steal_ her away from us, Klaus, they were keeping her away from the fight, so she'd have a chance even if everything else failed. I stayed behind because I put my trust on you even when you refused, time and time again, to share your plan with me, and this is how you repay it? By punishing them for something _I_ asked them to do? They deserved better from all of us. As did Gia."

Klaus swells in anger, blue eyes blazing as his lips twist into a grim line. "If you're expecting an apology, you might want to take a seat while you wait so you won't tire. I did the only possible thing to delay Dahlia, convince her of my intentions and bring you back. I had to go all the way, or she wouldn't have done it. I will not apologize for doing what I had to in order to save the most precious things in this world to me. I don't think you were listening the countless times I told you, Caroline: I lost you once, I would not lose you again."

She feels a prick of guilt in her heart. "And if you lose Elijah? And Rebekah? Will it be worth it?"

Klaus doesn't even blink. "Yes," he replies, his voice unwavering. "You're here, aren't you?"

Caroline shakes her head lightly at him. "You know that's not true."

"I will deal with my family, if we ever get the chance. This is not over yet." He casts a look towards Eve, the hard lines of his expression softening for just a fraction. "Stay here," he says, turning back to her. "Protect our daughter. I'll go finish Dahlia off once and for all."

The look they share lasts for a long moment, a thousand unspoken words passing between them. Caroline is suddenly overcome with a fear that he might be rushing towards his death and in that instant, it trumps all the bitterness and the disappointment.

In an impulse, she unfolds her arms and flings them around his neck, pulling him into a tight and desperate embrace. "Don't die," she whispers. Just as quickly as she hugged him, she retreats, putting distance between them once more. “I’m not done yelling at you.”

There's a ghost of a smile dancing on the corner of his lips as he says, "I'll do my best," before he jets out of sight.

She turns back to her daughter with a heart heavy and a suffocating sensation that she might not see Klaus again.

Making a split-second decision, all the while knowing she might not even live to regret it, she pulls out her phone. “I’m sorry, baby girl,” she whispers to Eve. “Mommy has to do this.”

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"Let me guess..." Esther draws, deciding at last to break the silence that had been dragging on for ages. Still it was better than hearing the sound of her voice again. 

Elijah got so used to Lenore's Southern lilt and deep voice that he'd forgotten what Esther's original accent and velvety tone was like, how she twists her vowels as though she's spelling them out of her mouth.

How many more times will they have to go through this? Ridding themselves of their parents only for them to keep coming back.

Elijah looks up from the knife he's been mindlessly toying with to see her blonde hair cascading down her back, covered in the black dress Rebekah got for her. Even with those shackles around her wrists, Esther still holds herself with the same poise and haughtiness of ever. She looks like one of those evil ice queens from fairy tales: a remarkable beauty devoid of all humanity.

He wonders if she was always like this, if Elijah simply doesn’t remember her well enough after a thousand years, if she used to disguise the darkest parts of herself behind a veneer of propriety and rectitude akin to the times they lived in before. Or if she's changed, maimed by remorse and bitterness. The latter option resonates with him; he can feel the barbed edges of his own bitterness disfiguring him from the inside out as they speak.

"You brought me back from the dead to torture me for what I've done," she finishes.

"My dear mother," Elijah speaks around a sigh. "We only need your blood. But in the event that you should suffer horribly, I can't promise I won't enjoy it immensely."

"Ah! Mother!" Niklaus greets as he walks into the empty bar, a huge dimpled smile on his face. Elijah sent him a message informing him he'd be waiting with Esther at Rousseau's. He couldn't go back to the compound, not with Gia's body still there, waiting to be tended to. He knew from Marcel that he'd taken Caroline and their child to Algiers, which might help explain the blithe mood. Still, it makes Elijah's skin crawl. "I've arrived just in time for another of your deaths! As much as I appreciate the front row seat, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to postpone the festivities."

Elijah stands to his feet, leveling his brother with a hard look. Niklaus' very enthusiasm grates at his ears. "You're in excellent spirits."

"Lucky for you, as I'm the one needed to save the day."

"Is that what it's called?"

"Why not?" he shrugs dismissively. "My plan worked perfectly."

Something snaps inside of Elijah, a fire burning up his chest and taking over his entire being. Involuntarily, his hands curl into fists, his teeth grinding together harshly, and before he knows what he's doing, he's advancing over his brother. Klaus puts his hands out, taking a step back.

"Easy, Elijah!" he says like someone who addresses a distressed animal. "I can see your red door swinging wide open, but our job is not yet done."

He stops, regarding Niklaus with a dark look. "Shall we kill her and be done with it?" _And get to settling our own scores?_

"To be clear, I do want her blood, but I want it on this blade," he says, fishing a knife from inside his jacket. "I had it bound with the soil from Dahlia's homeland, not to mention the Viking ash." He walks over to Esther, standing behind her. Their mother lets out a pained sigh. "Mother's demise will have to wait. You see, I need her to weaken Dahlia's defenses." He leans over, whispering into their mother's ear. "Bit of psychological warfare, before I slaughter the both of you."

"Ah, yes," Esther says, a grim smile gracing her features. "You expect me to walk willingly to my death."

"Well, willing participation would be a bonus, but it's far from necessary," Klaus retorts. "If needed be, I'll drag you there myself."

"Yes, dear mother, you do not have a choice," Rebekah adds as she joins them. "Then again, why should you be any different from the rest of us? We're all dancing puppets in Nik's end-of-days marionette show. He forces every move we make," she spits bitingly at him.

"And how long are you gonna stand there and pretend you don't need me to? The both of you have fought me at every turn, leaving me no choice but to act alone." His voice escalates as he speaks, his own temper flaring. He puts down the blade in his hands, takes a step forward, intent shining in his eyes. "We're no strangers to disagreements on the battlefield, but we also have a very long history of doing whatever it takes to win a war. And this war, in specific, could only be won if Caroline could be returned to us, and for that to happen, I had to go to the last consequences."

"And what of Jackson?" Elijah asks, his voice low but grave. He steps up to his brother, staring him down. "Gia?"

Niklaus purses his lips, keeping a perfectly straight face as he says, unrepentant, "Collateral damage."

That's about as much as Elijah can stomach. He punches his brother's face with all his might, sending him spinning. Niklaus turns back to him with fire burning behind his eyes, and Elijah almost wishes for him to fight back, so he'll have an excuse to waste time by giving him the beating he deserves. Hybrid though he may be, he'll never be a match for the sheer rage burning deep within Elijah right now, for the darkness that's eating away at his soul. Niklaus will get mauled.

"You claim your actions are part of some ruse," he continues, pointing a menacing finger at him. "This was punishment."

"Punishment? Whatever for?" his brother inquires, eyebrows arched in mock-curiosity. "Perhaps the dagger you put in my heart," he hisses out.

"You brought that upon yourself!" Elijah raises his voice to a near shout, words catching fire as he speaks them. "You lied and you cheated and you took the blame, _willingly_ , for a violent, cruel crime you did not commit. We have fought together for centuries and, once again, to break your enemy, you broke your family." Klaus' face shifts, his lips drawing into a downward line, emotion flickering through his darkened eyes. "You know better than anyone that I would've gone to the ends of this earth to bring Caroline back. Yet you... You took Gia's life for no reason other than your own nefarious satisfaction. Well, know this. Whatever the outcome tonight, you will no longer see me by your side. You want to be left alone? Congratulations. You have your wish."

Elijah walks over to Esther. "Maybe Caroline will forgive you for what you did to her friends, who fought valiantly to protect your daughter, even after you signed your name to Aiden's death. Or maybe she won't. You will have to live with the consequences of your choices, but after a thousand years, I hardly think you will learn anything from this." Elijah gently pulls on the chains binding his mother's hands. Grudgingly, Esther stands up from her seat and walks out after him. "Come, mother. Time to kill some family."

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"Darkness isn't born, you know. It's created by the snuffing out of light."

Klaus puts a hand out to signal his siblings to stop walking when he hears Dahlia's voice. Even under the smothering pressure he's in, he has to hold back on the urge to roll his eyes. How so very villainy of his dear aunt, giving a speech on good vs evil at the edge of an execution.

From where he is, he can just about see her, standing in the middle of the courtyard in an abandoned storage house. She has Freya on her knees right before her, his sister's back turned to him. Klaus can't see her face, but he knows his sister must be crying, the way her shoulders quake with her contained sobs. He can almost taste her fear in the air. She mentioned that, for the longest time, she wished for nothing more than the blissful nothingness of death to come and sweep her away from the woes of her imposed eternity. Not like this, it seems. Or not anymore. He wonders what has changed for her, if getting to meet the family she was stolen from, even one as broken and as wretched as theirs, has instilled in her a desire for something more from life than just to die. That's a feeling he can surely relate to.

Klaus finds himself suddenly protective of the sister he denied so vehemently for the past few months. She is, after all, still a Mikaelson, every bit as damaged and pitifully hopeful as the rest of them.

"Stay here," he murmurs back to Elijah, who's still holding their mother. "Wait before you bring her out." Then, turning to Rebekah, he asks, "You ready, sister?"

Rebekah gives him a stiff nod; Elijah merely stares ahead, his expression betraying no emotion whatsoever. To Klaus, it betrays everything.

Ignoring the pang that shoots through him, he takes a step forward, as quiet as a shadow. On closer inspection, he can see Dahlia has drawn a boundary circle with rock salt on the ground, both her and Freya standing inside of it.

"However you thought you might mend me, please know you never could," Dahlia continues. "Whenever I looked in your eyes, I saw your mother, the sister who turned my heart to stone. With that stone, I will crush every one of her children."

"Isn't there a saying about stones and glass houses?" Klaus offers as he finally shows himself, emerging from the shadows.

Dahlia's face whips around at him, her dark eyes flashing.

"In case the analogy is lost on you, I believe my brother is calling you a hypocritical bitch," Rebekah adds as she joins him. He cannot help the little smile at his sister's coarse language.

"Bringing vampires to a witch fight. Someone hasn't learned their lesson," Dahlia says.

"Well, I can be a bit thick sometimes," Klaus retorts. "Although on this occasion, I'd say I took your lesson to heart."

As if reading his mind, Elijah walks out of his hiding place, pulling a reluctant Esther right behind him. He keeps his eyes trained on Dahlia. For the first time, emotions, strong and real, saunter across her stoic complexion. Her lips part, her expression morphing into sheer shock. Klaus even hears the slight catch in her breath, the way her heart starts racing manically. His gut feeling was right; Esther isn't just the key to killing Dahlia, she's also the key to exposing the feeble humanity that still resists within her, therefore proving her vulnerable.

The witch suddenly lets out a bark of laughter with a hint of a sob. "My sister... In chains." She bursts into hysterical laughter, while Esther shifts uncomfortable, her lips pressed into a firm line. "Is she to be a gift to buy your freedom?" Dahlia reigns herself in to ask, turning back to Klaus. "Because I've brought something myself."

She pulls out the white oak stake, pointing towards Klaus.

"One stake. Three of us," he says. "Even if you don't hesitate, the other two will rip you in half."

She tilts her head to the side. "Sound thinking... But small thinking."

Dahlia puts her hand up, chants a few words under her breath, and a moment later a lightning strikes the stake she was holding, blinding everyone. When Klaus opens his eyes again, the white oak has been turned into dust, tiny small particles floating in the air around Dahlia. With a flick of her wrist, she forces it into the three of them, white oak dust penetrating their airways, filling their lungs.

It's like having a thousand wasps coursing through him. Klaus claws desperately at his throat, trying to cough out the dust, feeling as it clogs inside of him. His lungs are burning, collapsing immediately when in touch with the tiny white oak particles. He drops down on his knees almost at the same time Rebekah and Elijah do. Out of the corner of his eyes he has blurred views of them writhing on the ground, taken with the same kind of agony as him. The magic of the white oak consumes him whole, eating him alive.

"You're killing them!" he hears Freya's desperate plea.

Dahlia completely ignores her former protégé, turning instead to Esther, who hasn't uttered a single sound as she watches her children die. "Now, sister," Dahlia says, her voice acidic in its poison. "Let us watch together as I burn your children from the inside out."

"You still carry around so much anger for me, after all these years," Esther finally speaks in a placid manner. Even amid all the agony, Klaus still finds it in him to be incensed over his mother's lack of compassion.

"You broke your vow. We were to stand together, always and forever, and you left to marry that brutish Viking imbecile. You ended my family, and _they_ were the result."

"You call this my wrongdoing?" Esther retorts, for the first time with a hint of emotion that strikes Klaus even through Rebekah's screams and Elijah's breathless grunts. "You made me bargain away my first-born child, my daughter."

"Not just this first born, but _every_ first born, and even then, you found a way to deny me that which you had sworn would be mine."

Klaus' fingers close around the hilt of the dagger he carries in his jacket, he pulls it out and, fighting with every ounce of his strength to focus, he tries to launch at her while she's distracted. His movement is too slow, though, impaired by the white oak ash that pulverizes him on the inside, and Dahlia easily blocks him, sending him tumbling to the ground, the knife falling out of his reach.

"Now, Esther," Dahlia continues. "Say goodbye to the last of your progeny."

Klaus mashes his eyes shut, grinding his teeth, preparing for the final blow; instead, he hears Freya's choked scream.

"Sister, wait! Wait!" Esther pleads. "You've won, Dahlia. You have everything you wanted, including the first born of a new generation. You have bested us all. At least let me try to make amends. Let me share with you the glorious freedom that I have found..." There's a pause, and then Esther's chains rattle loudly. "In death!"

Klaus pushes his head off the ground and sees that Esther has wrapped the enchanted chain binding her wrists around Dahlia's neck. Everything happens so fast. With the distraction, Freya manages to break free of the stronghold Dahlia had on her and uses her magic to disrupt the boundary circle around her.

A violent coughing fit hits Klaus then, and he rolls on his stomach, feeling something crawling up his airways. His eyes water as he heaves terribly, and Klaus realizes he's expelling the ash. Freya must be doing something, magically draining them somehow.

"Elijah!" his mother screams. Klaus tries to pull himself up, but he's too weak, his head spinning madly due to the white ash still in his system. He turns his face to the side, sees that his brother, lying on the ground, likely feeling just as defeated as he does, his veins popping on the edge of desiccation, is trying to reach the fallen blade. But it's too far from him, he doesn't have enough strength to get to it.

Klaus grits his teeth, grunting loudly, frustration boiling in his dust-filled veins as he attempts fruitlessly to gather enough power to get up. If he doesn't, if he can't do it, then Dahlia will -

That's when he sees a blur moving past him. His vision is still too blurry for him to catch who it is at the speed they were, but when she stops close to the blade, he finally gets a good look.

Caroline.

She doesn't spare any of them a look, her eyes, flashing gold like burning embers, are fixed on the two women ahead as she closes her fingers around the hilt of the blade. Klaus doesn't have enough time to scream for her to stop, to tell her to leave, to not endanger herself - before those thoughts even form in his scrambled mind, she's jumping in the air like a flash of pure light, an animalistic roar ripping off her throat as she uses all her might to attack the two women. It's such a furious move, executed with such energy, that the blade goes easily through the two of them at once - into Esther's back, piercing Dahlia's chest.

A long moment goes by, the world plunging into a deafening silence as they wait, collective breaths held in suspension. And then, all at once, their bodies start turning grey - light at first, and then gradually darker. In each other's arms, Dahlia and Esther turn into ash and are blown away by the wind, gone forever.

Klaus stares in disbelief at the scene as they disappear, the ashes raining over them like darkened snowflakes. Elijah and Rebekah slowly pull themselves up, both of them disgruntled, their breaths haggard and scratchy, but alive. Freya comes to join them, helping Rebekah steady herself up.

Klaus sits and then, when the world doesn't tip dangerously around him, he finally stands to his feet, watching Caroline's back. She's standing there, immovable, staring at the spot where Esther and Dahlia had been a moment before. Her fists are clenched tightly next to her body, her shoulders moving as though she's taking deep, clipped breaths.

"Caroline," he tries, barely a rasp, his throat aching with the strain to speak.

She flinches as though startled out of a reverie, like she'd forgotten for a moment that they were there. When she locks eyes with him, her golden ones fade back into blue, brimming with tears.

Caroline walks up to him, her gaze as steely as it had been at the Infirmary, but filled with undeniable feeling. A million things pass between them, all the horror they’ve shared throughout the last year, since that night at the church, losing their daughter, and then Esther and Finn and Mikael and Dahlia… They killed her, twice. Almost took from Klaus the very light of his world; almost took from her that which she loves the most. They thought they’d crushed her, and yet she rose stronger than ever. Caroline vanquished them both, avenged herself and Eve and saved their lives.

Their nightmare is now over.

"Are you ok?" she asks him.

“Never better,” Klaus says, wanting desperately to pull her into his arms, but unsure whether she would even allow him. He's still wobbly on his feet, though, and she walks to his side, putting one of his arms around her shoulder, hers circling his waist, steadying him up. “It was you who saved the day, love,” he tells her softly, attempting a grin. “You saved us all. Thank you.”

A shadow crosses the plane of Caroline’s face. “They’d taken enough from me already,” she speaks solemnly. “I wasn’t gonna let them take anything else.”

A short, grateful smile graces his features, and then Caroline looks away, her eyes flickering to Rebekah and Elijah, both of them just as out of sorts as Klaus himself.

It's only then, the five of them standing together, side by side, that Klaus allows himself to let his guard down, releasing a burning breath against the sharp sting of white oak thrashing its way through his system.

"Seems we're officially orphans," he declares. The subsequent quietness befalls them like the sound of victory.

Esther is gone, for good this time, and she's taken her sister to hell with her.

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It feels like no victory at all.

They should be relieved. Thrilled. Drunk in exhilaration. Perhaps one of the strongest witches of all time, one whose power was unmatched and limitless, is gone forever. Never again will this atrocious bargain their mother made a thousand years ago come to haunt them. Eve will get to live a full and happy life however she pleases, never afraid that her first born child, or her child's first born, may be claimed into a life of slavery by Dahlia.

His niece is safe, his older sister is free, his younger sister made it out of the final confrontation unharmed. Caroline spent but a few - however endless - days gone and like a Phoenix enfolded in blinding fire, she came back and saved them all, when they couldn’t save her.

And yet, Elijah feels nothing but emptiness.

As soon as it was over, once it sunk in that the witch was dead, that burning adrenaline he had coursing through him like a current was replaced by a harsh and sharp cold. Even as he found himself blowing out a desperate breath, a thousand needles piercing his lungs, not yet fully recovered from having white oak dust pumped into him, Elijah felt this acute sense of loss.

For Gia, yes. She was an innocent victim of this vicious war, made to pay for his sins merely because he dared to show her affection. But it's not just about her. When he saw the light go out in her eyes, something else died inside of him. Something big and fundamental, something that had been Elijah's North Star his entire life: his sense of loyalty towards his family. Or, more specifically, to Niklaus.

That unshakable bond that kept them together for a thousand years has crumbled, the ropes that tied them together through treachery and quarrels and wars, unraveled before Niklaus' cruelty until it snapped. In its wake, came the emptiness. A terrible anger, yes, but above all, a sense of being adrift, of having lost himself, his purpose.

His love for his brother remains, which only makes everything worse. If he could just hate Niklaus it would be far simpler. Hatred is easy to process. It's the heartbreak that hurts the most.

Over the course of his life, Elijah came to expect almost everything from his volatile and temperamental little brother, even excusing his nature, so prone to violent outbursts and mood swings that could be as catastrophic as natural disasters. But this? Executing someone he knew Elijah cared for just because he could? To prove a point? No... This was beyond even Niklaus' most nightmarish days.

They've won the war but lost themselves in the process.

He's certain it was worth it, for Eve. There's nothing Elijah wouldn't do for that little girl. But not everything had to be the way it was. And the fact the worst of it came not from their enemy, but from his brother... It destroys Elijah.

He leaves his siblings and Caroline at the warehouse and decides to make his way back to the compound on his own, to be alone with his thoughts for a bit. It's a slow and lonely road, and he often finds himself getting lost, ambling through the streets of New Orleans not paying much attention to where he's going. By the time he gets to the French Quarter, dawn has already broken, the sky taking on a harsh, washed out color as the sun hides behind a curtain of clouds.

The compound has never felt less like home to him.

It's only when he crosses the gate that he remembers to check his phone. It buzzed a few times over the night, but he was frankly too out of himself to even bother. There's a message from Rebekah, asking if he's all right. One from Caroline, making the same enquiry in different words. And one from Marcel, saying he's left Gia's body in the coffin Caroline had previously occupied, still in the ballroom. He asks whether Elijah would like to bury or burn her, but whatever he decides, he wants to be there, too. Pay his respects and say goodbye.

Marcellus must be feeling terribly guilty himself. He was the one who pushed Elijah towards taking her in when he repeatedly refused to mentor her. As someone who grew up under the mercurial influence of Niklaus' wrath, Marcel should've known better.

Would Gia prefer to be buried or burned, have her ashes scattered somewhere? That was something that occupied a generous portion of his thoughts during the long night. The tragic truth is he does not know. They weren't together for that long. There was so much they didn’t know about each other. So many wrinkles and corners of their personalities yet to be explored.

Part of Elijah wants to give her a burial site, somewhere she can always be remembered, a place to mark that she was here, that she lived, loved, fought with everything she had to find life in death, when all she'd known as a mortal had been abandonment and misery. But another part thinks maybe she wouldn't want to be trapped underground. Gia was a free spirit. She would want her remains to be carried away in the wind, spread infinitely, have them touch life wherever it landed.

Elijah makes his way towards the ballroom, ready to pick up the casket and take it to Algiers, where he and Marcel will have a drink in her honor, listen to Beethoven because they know they'd be getting a laugh out of her for it, and make a decision. He spent more time with her than Elijah ever did, anyway. If anyone will have an answer, that's him.

But when he walks in, someone is already there.

Elijah’s stomach turns with anger, his entire body tensing up as though he's ready to go to battle. He feels a shaking that begins in his chest and radiates forward, stopping only on his knuckled fists.

Elijah wants to punch Niklaus. He wants to strangle him. To bite his head off. And he's not entirely sure he'll be able to contain himself.

"Step away, Niklaus," he warns, danger slicing through his low tenor.

His brother's shoulders set, but he does not move. "She was a beauty," he says, almost conversationally.

Elijah takes a step forward. "Get out of here. Now."

Klaus stays quiet for a moment, and then, with a swift move, he removes the dagger that was still buried in her chest. The red door, as Niklaus so well put it, swings wide open, ready to satiate his monster's need to spill blood.

"I merely wanted to retrieve my dagger," his brother remarks as he turns around to face him, completely unapologetic. "This is a special one. Fabricated by our brother, Kol," he continues, appraising his possession, stained in Gia’s blood, as though it were more valuable than the life it took. "One of his many dark objects I added to my collection. No doubt he made this amidst his many experiments trying to create something that could put me down. It doesn't work, in case you're wondering. Kol tried. Had his dagger confiscated and was put to sleep for a few good years for bad behavior."

"Niklaus -"

"Still, he managed to achieve something quite extraordinary," he keeps going, raising his voice above Elijah's. "Not very useful - not for me, anyway. I'm a creature of habits, as you well know. Throat-slashing, heart-ripping, decapitation... You can never go wrong with a classic. Weapons are far too impersonal for my particular taste. You see, the dagger does not work on me -"

Niklaus is interrupted by a loud gasp, and for a moment Elijah doesn't understand where the sound has come from - until he sees Gia's hands moving. His heartbeats stutter as he watches with wide eyes as she pulls herself up, sitting inside the casket, a hand on her chest, where the dagger had been just a moment before.

The smirk on Niklaus' face is feline. "But it does work on ordinary vampires. How quaint... Wouldn't you say?"

Elijah looks in sheer astonishment, his lips moving wordlessly. 

"I would offer her some blood," Klaus says as he walks by him. "She'll be quite famished."

"Elijah?" Gia croaks, her voice only above a whisper. She blinks at him, her forehead furrowed in confusion.

He breaks out of his stupor and walks over to her, reaching out to touch her chest, but stopping himself just short of it, afraid that it will all turn out to be an illusion. He stares at the bloodied patch on her sweater and counts her heartbeats.

"You're all right," he breathes out, not as a question, finally lifting his gaze to her big brown eyes - lost and flooded with doubt, but just as soulful as he remembers. _Alive_.

"I'm..." she trails off, shaking her head slightly. "Fucking hell. What happened?"

Elijah is quiet for a moment, trying to put his thoughts together.

"Niklaus happened."

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_One week later..._

Elijah's face breaks into a broad, open smile when he sees her, showing a hint of the dimples he so rarely displays, his eyes crinkling slightly around the corners. It immediately warms up Caroline's heart, yet to make a full recovery from the latest events.

The past few days have been... Awkward, to say the least, and she has more than a little residual skittishness. Still walks glancing over her shoulder, spying around the corners, hasn't had a single full night of sleep, tossing and turning and jerking up awake at the tiniest of sounds. The first night, she went on a rampage, gathering all the flowers in the compound and throwing them all out. Sweet smells freak the shit out of her. She can't even hear the church bells without wincing, waiting for it to chime to the sound of that awful tune that accompanied Dahlia like a death march.

It's going to take a minute for survival mode to wear off.

She had not seen Elijah in days, which is probably the longest she went by without seeing him ever since her forced relocation to New Orleans, the time he spent daggered as Marcel's prisoner notwithstanding. They only spoke briefly on the phone, when he assured her everything was fine and Gia would be ok. That was... Quite the plot twist. Though not an unwelcome one.

Caroline doesn't really know what to think. Besides the fact it was totally unnecessary, not to mention very traumatic for Gia to be compelled to kill herself like that, the fact Klaus waited until the very last moment to tell the truth was just... Cruel. So very cruel. He wanted to torture Elijah, make him feel the depth of that loss, and only then, once the weight of it had settled and darkness had fully creeped in, did he come clean.

Elijah is clearly not over it, considering he hasn't set foot at the compound and probably does not intend to do so any time soon. No apologies have been uttered; no forgiveness has been given. The two of them are truly estranged. Elijah wasn't this angry when Klaus stabbed him and shipped him over to Marcel as a sign of good faith. Caroline can't even begin to imagine what must be going through his head; it takes a lot for Elijah’s tolerance to wear off. Klaus pushed him too far.

Rebekah and Freya have stuck around, though the first clearly more reluctantly than the last. Freya moved into Kol's old room and has been slowly starting to navigate the daily life of a free person in the 21st century. She's a little overwhelmed, poor thing. All her life she's had a clock ticking over her head, a mission to complete, a dread in her heart reminding her that when the year was over, she'd go back to sleep. Now she doesn't even know where to begin spending all her time. Rebekah's taken her out a couple of nights, the two of them quickly thick as thieves. But not rarely, when they're at home, Caroline catches her staring into nothing, eyes lost in some faraway memory.

Klaus' demeanor towards Freya has changed, at least. He's courteous to her now, has taken her on a proper tour of the city, showed her some of his paintings, sometimes brings her beignets. They’ve even shared a drink together. They talk about amenities, mostly, never touching on the raw. To Rebekah, Klaus hasn't been as nice. Mostly because she hasn't tried to disguise how upset she is, lashing out at him whenever the opportunity arises. Their bickering, once ignited, never ends. It starts with something meaningless - like the type of juice they have for breakfast, or _why must we always have AB+ when O- is my favorite?_ \- and it escalates from there. _Why must everything always be the way you want them to? Why must you always control our lives?_ and _All I asked for was your trust and you wouldn't give it to me, you would leave me to rot in a coffin while my daughter was in danger!_ Soon they're shouting about the time Klaus daggered her 300 years ago or when she set fire to his paintings in the 1400s.

It’s exhausting, to say the least. Especially for someone with super vampire hearing.

Caroline... Well. She is not _not_ speaking to Klaus; they talk, it's just... Mostly short, monosyllabic conversations. His complete lack of remorse over the things he's done touches on the raw with her. What he did to Elijah and Rebekah was awful, even if, in the end, things more or less fixed themselves. But the Crescents...

Even if he says he did it so that Dahlia wouldn't kill them, Caroline just can't shake the fact that he took _pleasure_ in cursing them, removing the werewolves from his life all at once. And he's not even the slightest bit sorry. He hasn't tried to apologize, to offer any kind of solutions or even an explanation. Klaus thinks he was perfectly within his right to take revenge since the wolves ran with his child - even if it was Caroline who asked them to, even if they were simply trying to _protect_ her. They had some heated arguments over it in the first couple of days, but she soon realized it was useless to try and appeal to some moral conscience he doesn't have. Nothing anyone says gets more than a shrug and a dismissive pout from him.

The guilt is the worst part, gnawing away at her with its vicious little teeth. In the end, it was her death what pushed Klaus over the edge, what prompted him to commit all these terrible things. Last year, there wasn't enough time for him to flip out when she died. He had to save Eve, and then she came back. Now... He had been losing himself to paranoia little by little for months, dancing on the brink of hellfire. She tried so hard to stop it, to pull him back from the abyss, but nothing worked.

Caroline asked Jackson to run with Eve thinking she would be able to contain Klaus' wrath, that he would take it out on her and they would work it out later, once everything was over. If he had to be murderously mad at someone, it might as well be her. She wasn’t careful enough, and Jackson paid the price. In the end, what happened to them was her fault, too. And every time she looks at Klaus, when she sees that dare on his face, like he's waiting for her to say _I'm sorry_ first, it just breaks her.

Freya says she has no idea how to undo the curse. Dahlia used Celeste’s spell, but she gave it her own twist, made it harder to reverse. Luckily, they still have a witch of her bloodline alive, so not all is lost. Freya promised to look into it, but between adapting to her new life and trying to shake out of her own traumas, she hasn't had much time to think of a curse placed on a bunch of werewolves she doesn’t even know. Despite Caroline's urgency, she knows she can't really pressure her into dedicating herself completely towards finding the answer. It wouldn't be fair to Freya.

Instead, Caroline has taken some of the work upon herself, spending a lot of time hunched over grimoires at the library, cross-referencing information, trying to work on possible spell combinations, after anything that might shed a light over this mess. So far, she's come up completely empty, and the fact she can’t experiment with anything anymore only adds to her frustration.

Tonight's the first full moon since the Crescents were cursed and she's got nothing to offer Jackson. No solutions, no silver linings, no hope. Nothing more than a lame ass apology that will fix nothing and a promise to keep searching that, at this point, is not worth much.

Defeating Dahlia was not the end of their woes. They have a long way to go before they can heal from all this. _If_ they can heal at all.

At least seeing Elijah again gives her a little break from all that. She really, really misses having him around.

He greets her by the door wearing his version of casual stay-at-home clothes: dark jeans and a fitted sweater. He still looks fancier than most people on a regular day. The thing with Elijah is not even about the suits; he's just effortlessly elegant. It's kind of annoying, to be honest, how he can just look like that without even trying. Caroline spent an hour flat-ironing her hair before she left the compound and thirty minutes to decide on a top and she still doesn't come even close to Elijah's level of stylish.

"Hey!" she says as she steps in, giving him a half-hug and a kiss on the cheek.

He takes the baby car seat from her hands, his smile growing even wider as he lifts it up to greet his niece. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this delightful visit?" he asks, ushering Caroline inside.

"Eve missed her favorite uncle," she says, taking off her coat and hanging it by the door before following him in. "I thought we'd stop by to say hello." Elijah puts down the car seat and unstraps the baby, taking her in his arms. Caroline smiles warmly at him, and then she scrunches up her nose. "And if you're not too busy and if you don't have plans for tonight, maybe you could babysit for a little bit?"

"Love to," he says, not missing a beat. "Do you and Niklaus want a night out?"

"Well... No." Elijah's smile falters, and he looks at her with a question. "I'd rather he doesn't know where I'm going tonight," Caroline offers, stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "We’ve been fighting enough as it is. So if he asks, by the way, I was here."

Elijah arches his eyebrows, but the look on his face is one of amusement. "Do I want to know?"

"Tonight's a full moon. I'm going to the Bayou." His mouth draws into an _oh_ with understanding. He sits down on the couch and Caroline slumps down on the other end, one leg folded under her body so she’s facing him and Eve. "I have been trying to figure out what to say... I don't even know where to start. Jackson's going to be _so_ mad at me..."

"He might," Elijah agrees. "But that will be after he recovers from the shock of seeing you alive. Jackson believes, as we all did at the time, that you're dead."

"One more reason for him to be angry, then. I didn't even die for real."

"I very much doubt that's what Jackson will feel."

“Let’s hope not. But I wouldn’t blame him if he did.” Caroline sighs. "Anyway... Don't tell Count Dracula."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Not that I think he'll ask. Niklaus and I haven't been on speaking terms, as you well know."

"He puts on that infuriatingly smug front, but he's been sulking about the house, all bitter and pouty that you haven't forgiven him yet." Elijah deliberately abstains from commenting, choosing instead to play with Eve. He and Klaus couldn't be more different if they tried, but when it comes to talking about their feelings, they're just as headstrong. "How's Gia?" Caroline asks, veering the conversation towards more pleasant things.

Elijah smiles, not taking his eyes from his niece. "Terrific, last I heard of it. Vienna is quite lovely this time of the year."

Caroline's brow furrows. "Vienna? She went on a Euro trip?"

"More like... Relocated."

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "She _moved_ to Austria?"

"Well, she always had a dream of studying music abroad, to hone her formidable art. Her newfound appreciation for the great classics just made it all the more appealing. I'm sure she won't be staying in Vienna for long. Paris was also on her list of destinations." Elijah looks up at her, his smile wavering, the corners of his lips turning sad. "I made a generous deposit on her bank account, made it seem as though it'd come from Josephine Larue." He pauses. "And then I compelled her to forget all about us. About me."

Caroline's stomach drops, and for a few heartbeats she just stares at Elijah in incredulity.

"Elijah..." Caroline squeezes out, her voice laced with sorrow.

"Gia was far too great a musician and kind a soul to end up caught in our never-ending web of disasters. But she was also too loyal and... Involved. So I did the only decent thing I could and set her free. I never told her she had to leave, though. That was her own choice. I reckon she chose well."

Elijah keeps his tone perfectly even, his face blank of all emotion, but Caroline has lived with him long enough to capture the things that disturb the tidiness. The heartbreak is all there, right between the lines, in the way his eyes seem suddenly darker, in how his lips press together just that tiny bit tighter.

She feels her heart sink as she's flooded with the by now familiar guilt.

"I'm so sorry.”

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"Don't I? The more I think about it, the more I believe I do. Deep down... Everything that happened - everything he did - was because of me. Klaus got so fixated on the idea that something would happen to me that Dahlia figured out how to use his paranoia to her benefit. Jackson, Rebekah, Gia -"

"Gia was entirely on me," Elijah cuts in. "Niklaus wanted to punish me for daggering him."

"For doing as I asked you and allowing the wolves to run with Eve."

"You can't possibly make yourself responsible for my brother's insanity, Caroline. He was mauled by paranoia long before you were even born. If anything, you managed to bring out the best in him."

"And I've also brought out the worst," she adds in a small voice. "His darkest and most unreasonable side. He went to the last consequences because he refused to trust anyone, all because of what happened last year. It left me pretty traumatized, but I tried to put it behind me, move on... Klaus couldn't. And he feels no regret whatsoever about what he did. He thinks he was perfectly justified."

"My brother was always an admirer of Machiavelli. The ends justify the means," Elijah says with a twist of spite. "I do not discriminate against him for doing everything in his power to bring you back, Caroline. I would've done the same. From all of Niklaus' sins, that was hardly the one that earns censure."

Caroline finds no comfort in Elijah's words. Suddenly, she finds herself relating so much to Elena. There were so many times when Caroline wanted to throttle her for putting herself in danger to spare Damon or Stefan. Her martyr syndrome got her dead and turned into a vampire. What Caroline failed to realize then is that Elena was always trying to save the people she loved, even if it cost her own life, because it hurt too much to know that she was the cause of other people’s suffering.

It's not that Caroline wanted to stay dead or isn't glad to be back; she just finds it really hard to be _happy_ when her life came at the expense of so many people she loves being miserable.

She can't see pain shimmering in Elijah's eyes and pretend she doesn't know what caused it. It's more than just a matter of whether or not it was worth it; it's whether or not it was fair.

"If this is what he's going to be like from now on," she starts, enraptured with studying her own nails. "The only conclusion is... I'm not good for him." The words come out a little strangled, leaving a foul taste in her mouth. "Like this... Klaus is not good for anyone. Not for me, not for his family, not for his daughter... And not for himself either."

"You can't possibly mean that," Elijah says, a hint of disbelief in his tone. "Niklaus was _never_ good, Caroline."

"Well, he has to be now. This isn't just about me or him anymore. There's a child involved. Klaus _has_ to do better. And if I'm the thing that keeps throwing him off rail, then..." Caroline stops, her eyes cutting from Elijah to Eve. With a sharp twinge somewhere deep inside, she finishes, "Then I don't know if we can be together."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

She's just out of the shower, wet hair still wrapped in a towel, when she hears Klaus' voice carrying into her room.

"Once upon a time, there was a wolf king who fought a war for the most precious treasure in all the kingdom... His beautiful little princess."

Caroline stops in her tracks, frowning, straining to hear. His voice is pitched low and soft, a tone that's frankly as rare on Klaus as snow in New Orleans, and it tugs at something deep in her chest.

Despite the strange state of things between them, Klaus has been ever the diligent father. He spends time with Eve, feeds her, bathes her, even puts her to sleep. Babies aren't rocket science, but Klaus treats her as though she's made of crystal. Sometimes they do it together, and it's frankly the most blissful moments they've had since the whole showdown with Dahlia.

"She's a real person, Klaus, not a doll. If she's uncomfortable, trust me, you'll know," Caroline told him while he struggled to find a way to hold her in her little tub for a bath. "She's not that fragile. Just don't drown her and you'll be fine."

"No person should be allowed to be this small," he grumbled with a pout, but Eve was kind of having a blast with how he kept putting her under the water and then pulling her out, trying to find a position.

It's endearing, really, how hard he tries even though he's got no idea what he's doing most of the time. Caroline doesn't either, and there were good many freaked out nights shortly after Eve was brought to the French Quarter, but she's had far more experience with little kids in her 20 years of life than Klaus in a millennium, for sure. She used to babysit when she was younger and motherhood had always been on her horizon, however distant. For Klaus... Well. It’s been a wild adventure.

It’s hard to think there's anyone less cut out for fatherhood in this world, he’s much more at home fighting an entire platoon of juiced up werewolves than he is changing a diaper, and yet she'd never be able to tell when she looks at him with Eve. The Big Bad Wolf just melts around her. If someone doesn't watch him, Klaus will spoil her beyond salvation.

Caroline’s seen him tuck her in many times, but she was yet to hear him telling a bedtime story. That's completely new, and it makes her drift towards the door, padding softly so she won't disturb them.

Trying to stay hidden, she can see him sitting on the rocking chair, Eve curled into a tiny ball in his arms, her eyes heavy with sleep while he sways gently back and forth.

"But victory came at a price," he continues. "Allies lost... New enemies were made... And so the wolf king stood alone. Happily ever after it was not, but sometimes even the worst endings are not really endings at all. And you should know, my littlest wolf, that even when all seems burnt to ash, there is always another chapter to be told."

By the time he's done telling his story, Eve is already sleeping. Caroline takes a step back when Klaus stands up to put her down in her crib. She waits for him to walk out through the other door, but he walks into her bedroom instead.

"Spying on me, love?" he asks offhandedly as he shuts the door behind him. Caroline makes a face, flustered at being caught eavesdropping. "Don't think I'm capable of watching out for my own daughter?"

"That’s not - I know you are. I just... Like seeing you with her. I think it's sweet. Nice story by the way."

Klaus' lips curl up into the beginnings of a smile he wipes off as soon as he realizes it’s there. They eye each other for a long moment, that impossible awkwardness hanging in the air between them, neither one sure of how to break through it. Caroline can almost feel the exhaustion accumulated over the past so many weeks weighing down on the two of them. He's the one who looks away first, dipping his head and saying, "Well. Good night, then," before moving to leave her room.

"Klaus," she calls out, almost on a whim, prompting him to stop and turn back, expectation shimmering in his eyes.

For days now Caroline has been itching with a thought, desperately trying to find a way to approach him. She's had so many versions of this conversation in her head and not one of them didn't end with Klaus spitting fire. There's no easy way to say what she means to say - not for either of them.

"We need to talk," she starts, pushing past the doubt, trying to ignore the twinge in her gut.

"Are you ready to let bygones be bygones?"

Caroline sighs, worn down before they've even started. "No. I'm not."

"How much longer are you going to pout over this?" Klaus retorts, impatience dancing just beneath the surface. "We had an extraordinary enemy, extraordinary measures were required. Dahlia is dead, our daughter is safe, you are alive. How can you fault me?"

"Don't you feel even a tiny bit sorry about anything?" Klaus cocks his head to the side, arching his eyebrows in a smug pose that makes Caroline want to throw something at him. "Did you know Elijah compelled Gia to forget about him?"

His face smooths with surprise, but he recovers quickly, shrugging. "I can hardly be blamed for that."

"He compelled her because he didn't think she was safe around his own brother. You really don't see how that's a problem for you?" Klaus doesn't say anything, but the haughty pinch on his lips tells her everything she needs to hear. Caroline shakes her head. "I saw Jackson a few of nights ago. He's a mess, by the way. Half his pack has scattered, he has no idea where they are and his grandmother is now trapped in her wolf form, maybe for the rest of her life. But I suppose you don't think that's your fault either."

"How many times am I gonna have to repeat myself? If I hadn't had them cursed, Dahlia would've killed all of them."

"The only reason Dahlia even knew where to find them was because you took her to them. You didn't have to curse them, just like you didn't have to hurt Gia or screw with Rebekah and Marcel. All you had to do was _trust_ us, Klaus, and none of that would've happened. You did it out of revenge, because you were mad at everyone. And I get it, all right? You were hurt. Elijah daggered you at a crucial time, removing you from the game while our daughter was in danger, and you were still fixated on what happened last year."

"Last year?" Klaus asks in a sharp voice, his eyes flashing. "You were dead last week, Caroline."

"And I am very grateful to be alive now, believe me."

"Are you entirely certain of that, love? You sound like you'd rather have stayed dead.”

"I feel responsible, Klaus!" she snaps, voice rising with the flare of her temper. "You went after people who only ever wanted to help me. _Us_. Our family. Because of me, a lot of people got hurt."

"What would you have me do, then? Go to the Bayou, apologize to Jackson? Get in my wolf form, perhaps, have a bit of a growling chat with him? I can assure you that's not a very good idea."

"No, it's not," she says, her fire dwindling all of a sudden. "Honestly, I don't know what I want. I don't know how to fix this."

"Because there is nothing to be fixed," he insists. "You and Elijah need to get over it, let Freya work on trying to free the wolves and whilst she does that, they can make good use of their time to reflect upon their wrongdoings."

"We could use some time to reflect on our wrongdoings, too," she says, her heart splitting as the words leave her mouth. Somehow, she manages to look Klaus in the eye as she speaks the next part. "I want to go home. To Mystic Falls."

Klaus looks at her like he can't quite grasp what she just said, a puzzled crease between his eyebrows. "What?"

"I think it's time."

Slowly, his expression curls into a mix of hurt and disbelief as what she's really saying dawns on him. "You would leave me?"

Caroline draws in a sharp intake of air, feeling her stomach twist in on itself as she fumbles for the right words. "Ever since I got here, your family became my family, for better and for worse. And all this time, I've neglected the fact that I actually happen to have a family, too. Eve will be one in a couple of months and my mother doesn't even know she exists. I have to go home, Klaus."

Klaus' lips twist into a scowl. "So you'll not only leave me... You'll take my daughter with you."

" _Our_ daughter," Caroline counters. "It's not fair that my mom doesn't get to know her, be a part of her life. I want Eve to know a love that is... Simple and uncomplicated. _Human_ . She has a grandmother who not only would never try to kill her, but will actually be _great_ at it."

"And how do you even know you'll be accepted? Hm? Do you think your friends will roll out the red carpet for you when you arrive with my child in your arms?"

"I don't know," she says honestly, through the flutter uncertainty. "Maybe they'll hate me, maybe they'll never forgive me. Or maybe it won't even matter. The point is, I won't know until I try. And I gotta give them the benefit of the doubt. Besides, after everything that's happened here in New Orleans for the past two years, whatever happens in Mystic Falls will be easy. At least I know that even if they despise me for how I feel about you... They won't try to kill me for it." She takes a step closer to him, trying to steel her resolve. "I'm not trying to take Eve away from you. You're a good father, Klaus, and I would never want you out of her life. You can see and spend time with her whenever you want."

Klaus' face stills and sets, his jaw hardens. "So you're not coming back.”

"I... I don’t..." Caroline replies, her voice coming out quivery despite her best efforts to remain steady. "I need some time. And I think you do, too."

The sting in Klaus' eyes cuts deep into her flesh; it's bitter hurt and betrayal and anger, all rolled into one. The weight of her own decision rattles away inside of her, sinking into her chest like an anchor. As much as she knew he'd be upset - of course he would - she just wasn't prepared for the raw pain flashing hard and bright in his eyes.

"Don't presume to speak for me," Klaus's voice cracks like a whip, his midnight blue eyes as hard as gems. "I don't need time away from my daughter. I know exactly what I want, Caroline, and I believe I've made myself quite clear. If your wolf friends' fate matters more to you than all the sacrifices I was willing to make in order to get you back, then so be it."

Caroline feels the sting of tears behind her eyes. "That's not fair. You know -"

"Take our daughter far from here. See your mother, your friends, go back to your small-town life, if that's what you want. I wish you good luck."

"Klaus -"

Before she has a chance to say anything else, he's already stormed out, leaving a cold emptiness in his wake.

A horrible chill sinks into her bones, and Caroline wraps her arms around herself, takes a shuddery breath as tears burn down her face. Her lips quiver as the crying turns into sobbing, and all her resolve into crumble.

In her life, she had always been the one walked out on, the one left to collect the pieces of her broken heart. She could've never imagined that it would hurt just as badly to be on the other side.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It seems almost bizarre how Caroline's whole life in New Orleans has fit into two suitcases and a couple of baby bags. It feels so impossibly large and heavy, so hard to define, that it's ironic that, once she started packing, this is all there was. All that she will take with her. It's not even remotely fitting to the super-sized void inside of her, this black hole that opened up somewhere south of her heart.

Nineteen months in New Orleans felt like fifteen years. Made the nineteen years she'd spent in Mystic Falls before seem so small.

At some point, when she wasn't looking, between finding out she was pregnant and getting murdered for the second time, the Crescent City became home. The French Quarter, the compound, the Mikaelsons. _Klaus_.

Klaus, who's angry at her. So angry he hasn't spoken to her once in the two days since they had the conversation. The few times she tried to reach out, he was nowhere to be found. Like when she went to say goodbye.

Despite their obvious differences, Caroline didn't want to leave on such bad terms because of Eve. She doesn't want to be the heartless bitch who stole his daughter away. That's not what she's doing here. She just needs time away from all this, to recalibrate and get her shit together, be with her mom, talk to Bonnie, see if her fresh Bennett eyes can help figure out a way to break the Crescent curse (again). After two deaths in the space of ten months, Caroline has earned the right to a _break_. Now try explaining that to Klaus.

Klaus doesn't do nuance. He doesn't do subtlety. He's all big words and loud voice. There are certain fine lines he just can't or won't walk. It makes everything worse. Makes Caroline feel every bit the heartless bitch who's stealing his kid. She reckons this is probably what he wants her to feel like, anyway. The weight he wants her to carry in her conscience as a punishment.

As she loads her things into the car, she wills away the bubble of panic at the pit of her stomach, tells herself that it'll be alright. Not everything is darkness and gloom; she's going to see her mother again.

God, how she misses her mom... It's been way too long. Nineteen months, a baby and a vampire transition too long, to be more exact. Caroline wants to hug her and tell her she was right about _everything_ , ever. She wants to apologize for every tantrum, every fight, every frosty glare she ever cast Liz's way. There were so many times over the last almost two years when all she wanted was her mother's arms. Her mother's sweet, gentle voice. Her mother's words of wisdom. To think she's just thirteen hours away from the comfort of her childhood home feels almost surreal.

"Well, that's it, then," she announces once she shuts the car trunk. It took her maybe two minutes longer than necessary to do it. There's no turning back now.

Elijah is checking that Eve is well strapped to her seat while Cami fusses over the baby. Her send-off committee is made of the two of them plus Freya. Rebekah should be here, too, but God knows where she went.

"I'm all set," she adds with a lightness and a smile that do not match how she feels.

"Promise you will call," Cami says, walking over to Caroline and pulling her into a tight hug. "And that you'll flood my phone with baby pics."

She chuckles, rubbing her friend's back. "That is a promise I can definitely keep."

Cami pulls away, puts a bag in her hand. Caroline quirks an eyebrow at her. "Just something for the road," she says. "Beignets from our favorite café."

This time, the huge smile that breaks onto Caroline's lips is completely sincere. Their favorite café is the place where they went on their first _friend date_ , when Cami accompanied her on her first doctor appointment. Caroline is yet to eat a better beignet, though she suspects how comfortable and calm Cami made her feel that day had a lot to do with it. "I love you, you know."

"Then promise you'll take care of yourself, and that you won’t become a stranger."

Caroline's smile turns soft as she gives her friend another hug. "I promise."

She's going to miss Camille so much. Caroline never expected to find a friend in her, with all the petty jealousy that used to leave her on edge every time the other woman was around. Now she can't really imagine how she would've made it through all those crazy times without her. Cami held her hand, kept her grounded, took her out for beignets and coffee when everything else in her life was chaos, offering Caroline a sense of normalcy she desperately needed. Venting about Klaus and talking about babies and singing Cyndi Lauper off the top of their lungs over margaritas at Rousseau's after hours - which unfortunately only happened once - was a reminder that life isn't just bloodbaths and death threats all the time. It removed Caroline from the Mikaelson bubble and gave her something that was just hers. Just theirs. Just two twenty-something girls having fun as they should. Cami doesn’t even realize how eternally in her debt Caroline is.

"You take care too, ok?" she says. "Do _not_ go running straight into harm's way. Take some time off the crazy, too."

"Yeah, well, the crazy kind of has a way to find me," Cami says with a resigned sigh. "But I'll do my best."

The next one is Freya. They eye each other awkwardly for a moment, smiling shyly before Caroline wraps her arms around the eldest Mikaelson, too. Freya chuckles, returning the embrace like she isn't quite sure how these things are supposed to go.

"I'm sorry," Freya whispers.

"Don’t. That’s all in the past now. Thank you for fighting for my little girl."

Freya holds her tighter. "I would never let Dahlia have her without a fight."

Caroline pulls away. “I’m really glad she gets another aunt."

The witch's lips curl into a big smile that lights up her whole face. With all that power and all that baggage, it's hard to see Freya for what she really is: a young girl, annoyingly beautiful like the rest of her family, who never had a chance to live her life as she deserved. Well, not anymore.

"I promise I won't stop looking into a way to free the wolves," Freya says solemnly. "I'll let you know if I make any progress."

"Thank you. I have a friend in Mystic Falls, she's a Bennett witch."

“A Bennett witch?” Freya says with surprise. “That’s a really powerful lineage.”

“I know. Bonnie rocks. I'm hoping she might know something that can help”

"Send me whatever you get."

Caroline takes one of her hands and gives her a grateful squeeze.

"Well, I hope you're not trying to depart without saying goodbye to me. Let it be clear that I take full offense."

Caroline's head whips around when - not Rebekah, but Eva Sinclair walks out of the compound and joins them by the sidewalk. The sass and the snipe and the unmistakable smirk are all quintessential Rebekah's, though. Caroline's jaw drops.

"What the - what?!"

"Got an offer that was hard to turn down," she says by means of explanation, winking at Freya. "I decided I'm going to be taking this body for a spin for a little while longer. I made a promise to Kol and I intend to keep it."

"Ok," Caroline says slowly around a chuckle. "Good for you." She doesn't really know what to make of it, but at least someone got to have what they wanted.

"You're not the only one skipping town either," Rebekah says, walking over to her.

"Sister?" Elijah remarks as a question, a light frown on his face.

"Sorry, Elijah, but I'm on a mission to bring our brother back and I don't think I'll be finding the answers I seek here. Besides, while on my own, I intend to live a little, enjoy all that a mortal life has to offer, and we can both agree that Mr. Brightside upstairs would never let me do it."

Elijah opens his mouth like he intends to counter, but then thinks better of it, and lets out a resigned sigh instead.

"Don't worry," Rebekah continues, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I promise I won't disappear, and I'll always be just one phone call away."

Elijah offers her a wan little grin. "Go chase your happiness, Rebekah. I'll be here when you come back."

She plants a kiss on his cheek, and then turns back to Caroline. "And you. I've got you something." Rebekah puts a hand in her pocket and pulls out a little piece of paper, passing it over to Caroline.

When she realizes what it is, her face goes blank with surprise, gaping. "I burned this!" she exclaims, smoothing a hand over the polaroid they took in front of the safe house all those months ago. Her with Eve in her arms, Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah, all crammed into that tiny photo. "How...?"

Rebekah's smirk turns triumphant, and she flips her hair back. "I saved it. Figured there might yet be a way to undo the damage. I thought it was a fitting farewell gift. Something sweet for you to remember us by."

Caroline runs a finger over each of the faces on the polaroid. Elijah with that cryptic smile of his. Rebekah's sunshine one. And Klaus, pouting over being forced to take a selfie. She puffs out a laugh, her chest filled with sudden affection for these people who became her family over the last two years. Suddenly her eyes are brimming with tears - not sad ones, for a change.

Before Rebekah can escape, Caroline flings her arms around her shoulders and pulls her into a bear hug.

"I know you don't do hugs, but I had to," she murmurs.

Rebekah's arms come to rest around her too. "I can make an exception for you. Just once. But let's keep it between us, I have a reputation to uphold."

Caroline chuckles, pulling away. "God, I'm going to miss you."

Rebekah reaches out, wiping the tears off her face with a light brush of her fingers. "You better."

"If your mission ever takes you to Virginia -"

"You don't have to tell me, love. Nothing will keep me from my favorite girl in the world." She shuffles over to the car, then, leaning in to smack a kiss on Eve's head and pinch her cheeks. "Auntie Bex is gonna miss these sweet cheeks so much. Your mama better send me all the photos and the videos on the clock if she knows what's good for her."

"I'll have to start a newsletter."

"Fantastic!" She straightens up, then. "Camille, I count on you to not let my brother wither away in misery, yes? Take him out for spirits, force him to enjoy himself for a change." Cami's eyebrows go up to her hair and she sends a kind of freaked look at Caroline. Rebekah rolls her eyes. "I mean my most handsome brother," she adds, nodding towards Elijah.

"Thank you for your concern, Rebekah, but I believe I can take care of myself," Elijah says, a stiff little grin on his face.

"Don't listen to him. _That_ is his version of a cry for help," she tells Cami, completely ignoring Elijah's pained sigh. Caroline smiles at the furtive glance Cami casts his way, shifting awkwardly on her feet. Rebekah can be as subtle as a thump to the head.

She takes Freya's hand, the two of them exchanging a knowing smile like they already had this conversation before. Then Rebekah turns back to them. "I best be on my way, then. I still have a pit stop before leaving." She gives a little bow, gesturing as though removing her hat. "Until next time, my lovelies."

They watch in silence as she saunters down the street, disappearing in the French Quarter crowd.

"Well, someone completely stole the thunder of my goodbye," Caroline says with mock-injury, breaking the ice.

She locks eyes with Elijah then, and her expression immediately softens.

Traumas and horrors aside, New Orleans has brought some fantastic people into her life, friends she would walk through fire for, whom she'd fight wars to protect. Camille, Eve, Jackson, even Marcel and Freya. But no one means more or sits closer to her heart than Elijah. He has been something like a safe harbor from the very beginning, a pillar of strength and resilience even in the most vicious of storms. Just looking at him makes her feel at ease, his presence always so reassuring. From day one Caroline felt like she could trust him, and even though things got a little awry a few times, that faith was never misplaced.

It pains her to know she'll be leaving him on his own, estranged from his home and his brother, mending his broken heart after Gia. Rebekah was perhaps a bit too upfront about it, putting Cami on the spot, but she wasn't entirely wrong; Elijah _deserves_ to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. He's closed himself off, pushing almost everyone out, thinking himself unworthy of affection after the mess his mother made in his head, but the truth is... He's one of the best people Caroline's ever met. Not vampire; _people_ , period. She would give him the world if she could. But if she could give him just one gift for the rest of his life, it would be for him to see himself the way she does. The way almost everyone else does. Even Klaus. Elijah is so much better than he believes, too good to become a stupidly handsome reclusive millionaire with exquisite taste hiding away in freaking Algiers.

Without saying anything, Caroline simply walks up to him and wraps her arms around his body, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He's not a hugger either, and she can count on one hand how many times he's offered her one, but she doesn't even care. In that moment, Caroline knows that no one shares her impossible understanding of the situation as Elijah does, this inborn comprehension that there is no easy fix to their woes, that they all need time to heal.

As intuitive as Elijah is, she doubts he doesn't already know, but Caroline hopes he realizes just how much she loves him. Not in the way he maybe wished she would a while back, not in the way she loves his brother, but just as deeply, with all her heart.

Elijah runs a soothing hand down her back, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "Don't get into too much trouble, yes?" he says. "But if you do, you know where to find me." It's a light-hearted remark, but also a promise.

Caroline pulls away, a broad, bright smile on her face. "Yeah, I do."

As she takes a step back, she can't help but feel that stab caused by the glaring absence, her stomach roiling with remorse. She shoots a look up to the empty balcony in Klaus' bedroom. Her smile freezes on her face and then slides off as she draws in a steading breath.

In that instant, with her raw emotions rising to the surface once more, it becomes as clear as daylight that not all the love in the world will ever be enough to fill the Klaus-shaped gap in her heart.

"Can I ask you all a favor?" she blurts out, cutting her eyes down to them.

"Anything," Cami says.

"Don't leave him alone," she says in a quiet voice. "He's gonna be angry out of his mind and more insufferable than normal, but... Don't let him lose himself again. Check up on him. Make sure he's not... I don't know, spiraling. Going on killing sprees. Keep him company, if you can. Sit down for a drink, or a conversation. Anything. I just… Don't want him to be alone. Please?"

"Don't worry," Freya replies soothingly. "I'll be here."

"I can pour him a drink or two, I guess," Cami offers.

Caroline smiles appreciatively at them, and then turns to Elijah, who's looking down at his feet. She doesn't really expect him to make any promises, knowing fully well how much it takes him not to punch Klaus' face right now, so she's a little taken aback when he says, "I'll do my best," and smiles up at her, not a hint of hard feelings in his eyes.

Caroline returns the smile, nodding her head. "Thank you." And then, after a beat, she says, "I'm not leaving forever. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but... I'm not walking out on you, and I'm not taking Eve away from her family either. I'm sure I'll be back. And you can always come visit, any time. Come and see everything idyllic Mystic Falls has to offer."

"I doubt they'd get excited over there at the prospect of a few Originals stopping by," Elijah teases.

"At least you know they're not gonna unionize and try to kill you." Then, after a thought, she adds, "Probably."

"Already that seems more promising than the French Quarter," Freya says.

"That's the point," Caroline agrees. "Well... I guess I better hit the road."

"Drive safely," Cami says. "And send me a message when you get there."

"Will do."

"Bye, Caroline," Freya says. "Have a good trip."

Elijah just smiles

With a heavy heart, but renewed hope, Caroline gets in the car, puts the polaroid picture on the dashboard right where she can see it, and then turns back to check on Eve, who's looking back at her with her blue eyes the exact same shade of storm as her father's.

"Are you ready, little wolf?" she asks. "We're off to see grandma."

Almost two years ago, somebody put her in a car and drove her to New Orleans, completely changing the course of her life for - well, it's fair to say eternity now. Back then, she’d been scared, alone, terrified of the thing growing inside of her. Now, as she's about to take the road back, Caroline tries to shed off the bad and the painful, and carry only the good home with her.

She came here a witch and will go back as a vampire with weird werewolf juju, yes, but she's also made some good friends, found herself a new family she would kill and die for, fell desperately in love - and was loved in return like she'd never been before. Above all, she had the greatest feeling of her entire existence, for better and for worse, when she became the mother of the little person on her backseat.

It's safe to say that the Caroline taking the road back now is not the same one who was kidnapped from her hometown all those months ago, removed from her plans and dreams, her entire world shaken up to its core. Despite all the blood and the tears, all the suffering and the loss, she likes to think she can be at least a little bit proud of herself. She's made it to the other side - a little battered, a little hurt, a little worse for wear, but still good. Still whole. Full of new hopes and dreams and things she wants in life.

"We'll be alright, won't we?" she says to her confused baby, smiling. "Yeah, we will."

She looks in her mirror and sees Cami, Freya and Elijah still standing there, waiting for her to leave. Then she cuts back to the photo, to the one face that's missing. Involuntarily, she touches the moss agate pendant on her neck.

With a heavy heart, but also a little renewed flutter of anticipation for what’s ahead, Caroline turns on the ignition and drives away.

_Someday, somehow_  
_Somewhere down the line_  
_If you save heart for mine_  
_We'll meet again_

_ROLL THE CREDITS!_

**The End**

lol jk

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, there's a song to go with the last part of Klaus and Caroline's scene and then the final scene of the chapter, which in my head, would end the episode with the credits rolling in. lol For those of you who appreciate a soundtrack, it's **[Sleeping Alone by Lykke Li](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ZlOQ4Dny30pa1yPJa4CYj?si=M7jPVz2qSyW5rDZEfn_5WQ)**. It's where the lyrics at the beginning and the end of the chapter are from.
> 
> Second: I hope you folks don't hate too much on Caroline. 🤣🤣 I realize people tend to take Klaus' side on everything in this story, so I'm a little afraid of the reactions. lol But while I did not hold back when writing Klaus' version of facts or his lashing out (because of course he'd have strong feelings about all that), I do hope you guys could understand her side, too. (Also, Caroline 100% became my favorite snowflake in this story, stealing the spot previously held by Elijah, so I will go down defending her. 🤣)
> 
> She's been through a hell of a lot (she died!! again!!) and of course she wants to see her mom. It's about time! Liz doesn't even know about Eve yet. And she's very lost on how to act about Klaus, too. Although it's quite clear she loves him to bits (I hope that's clear???), it's hard to just be happy when everyone you know is miserable because you're alive. lol So, you know. My girl's got some issues and needs her mama's bear hug to work it out. But please don't think she's pulling a Hayley here and trying to run with the baby. All of this, including her feelings and Klaus' feelings, will be extensively discussed going forward.
> 
> Next, Gia! 😬 Those of you who did watch The Originals probably noticed from last chapter that I changed the way she dies. WELL. I gave myself super writer powers here and pulled that failed attempt at a dagger to kill Klaus that created something else out of my a**. I'm not sorry. Just roll with it, yes? I told you guys from the beginning that I would try to draw this situation in a way that wouldn't put Klaus beyond forgiveness, and murdering Gia would very much cross that line. It was still rough, I mean... The way he does it, the whole conversation was maybe worse than it was on the show, but at least she wasn't dead? lol But she is gone away now. :( And Elijah is still heartbroken. :(( BUT SHE'S ALIVE. And living the good life. Hope you folks enjoyed that one. :)
> 
> Just as a curiosity, that Dahlia and Esther's death scene is, IMHO, probably one of the worst scenes in all of TO. lol I know I kept it, but I keep a lot of things I don't necessarily like. I don't know what's up with the actresses in that moment, but they were SO BAD. The lady playing Esther, omg!!! It's a little baffling. If you have watched the show, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't - don't. Trust me. 
> 
> Obviously, Klaus is the one who ends up killing them. Here, I felt Caroline deserved her own moment of vindication against the people who have made her life hell, caused her two deaths, tried to murder and/or kidnap her daughter and also take away her adopted family. Nobody's suffered more in the hands of those two over the course of this fic's universe than her, so. She's _the next best thing_ after a hybrid, after all, and I felt it was fair that she got to use her kickass powers. 
> 
> And now, Mystic Falls! :D The next nine chapters of this story will tie up with season 6 of The Vampire Diaries, which is the season that was aired alongside The Originals season 2. Except I'll mess with the timeline a little bit so it would be as though TVDS6 starts some time after the beginning of TW2. It'll be better explained next chapter. There will be a little time jump and we'll pick up from a mix of TVDS6 eps 10 and 11. Expect lots of angst, my dudes. If you know what happens in the sixth season of TVD, then... You have been warned.
> 
> Anyway. That's the end of TO S2! Hope you folks enjoyed it and had fun reading it as much as I had writing it! :) As always I would very much love to hear your thoughts! Your comments and feedback give me life. ❤️ If you have hated this, then maybe don't go too hard on me 'cause I'm fragile and I would like to stay motivated to post the rest of this fic. 😂😂
> 
> If you're binging this story, this is another good place to make a pit-stop! Consider this a season break! :) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I will see y'all next chapter! :)


	23. S02E23 Woke Up With a Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Mystic Falls! I was born here. This is my home. And mine. And mine. (Sorry 🤣)
> 
> But yeah, this final arc will be entirely set in Mystic Falls.
> 
> First, this story has been nominated to a **[KC Awards!](https://kcawards.tumblr.com/)** Two other fics of mine were as well, and I got nominated on an author category! 💖 Thank you so, so much to those of you who nominated this fic! You are the nicest ever and I am so honored! If you would like to cast a vote for this fic, for me as an author or any of the other fics, you can do so starting **December 23rd** on the KC Awards page which I have linked up there.
> 
> Every time I promise something, the universe has a way of thwarting my plans just to prove a point. I swore I'd have a chapter out sooner, but I have been locked in battle with this chapter for a lot longer than I ever anticipated, changing, rewriting and adding stuff nonstop. I had to force myself to quit tinkering with it, so here's the end result.
> 
> **Some quick points:**
> 
> \- This will follow TVD Season 6 canon. I will keep the same recipe as The Originals, following the show's plot points as they are. For obvious reasons, many things will have to be adapted, rewritten, added, etc. But remember that the PLOT is still the same. We pick up from episode 6x11 and will go all the way to 6x22, but a few episodes will be scraped from the rewriting.
> 
> \- I have tried to explain in as much detail as reasonably possible what has been going on in Mystic Falls all this time and what's the state of things at the moment this arc begins. I won't be going too deep into stuff because the only parts that interest me are the ones that involve Caroline. Everything else only marginally influences the story (Caroline was somewhat removed from the main plotline in this season). Whenever I think necessary for context, I will offer some explanations, hopefully not sounding too info-dumpy while doing so. Also, if I got anything wrong, I am very sorry. I did watch many of these episodes again, but not all of them, though I did use the Vampire Wiki a lot. So just roll with it.
> 
> \- No, there will be no Steroline. But yes, I will be stealing from their moments in order to rewrite this story, same as I did to other TO ships. But, again, take under consideration the fact that the entire context for this rewriting will be completely different from what it was on the show. Like, COMPLETELY.
> 
> **WARNINGS:**
> 
> \- There's a lot of angst coming up and it starts in this very chapter. I don't mean to be spoilery, but I feel like I need to be clear that we'll be handling Liz's cancer and the loss of a family member and this might be a trigger to many people who are dealing or have dealt with similar situations. If that's your case, please consider not reading this, or if you do, proceed with extreme caution. I really do not mean to upset anyone. :(
> 
> There are more points I would like to make, but I'll add them to the bottom and let you folks go ahead and read the chapter. As always, thank you for all your lovely comments and amazing support! 💖 Your feedback is still very much appreciated and I would LOVE to read your thoughts after this first MF arc chapter! :)

* * *

**_Three Months Later_ **

"Which one, do you think?" Caroline turns to her baby, holding out the two potted plants she bought in front of a wide-eyed Eve. Her little hands go straight for the white daisies. "Ugh! How are you so wise?"

She smacks a kiss on her daughter's forehead and puts the daisies on the mantelpiece, next to the portraits. Eve and Liz on Eve's first birthday, a month before; Caroline with Eve on her first day back in New Orleans, after the Crescent ceremony; an old one of Caroline, Elena and Bonnie in their cheer uniforms; the polaroid with the Mikaelsons at the safe house.

Caroline has always been big on photographs, had tons of them around her old house. Until two years ago, her life had been exhaustively registered in pictures. Her mom says she could never resist a lens, not even as a baby, always smiling whenever someone pointed a camera at her. Every important moment, every school dance, every Halloween costume, every birthday, every slumber party, every field trip. It's all there, on her innumerous photo albums, displayed on cork boards and portraits. It's sad, really, when she thinks about it, how little she's kept from the last two years. None of those childhood memories feel as big as some of the things she experienced in New Orleans, but the constant threats and the unending series of heartbreaks didn't exactly inspire a lot of snapping.

She's been trying to make up for the lost time, but the gaps she can't fill are all but glaring. Like Eve's first six months, or her whole pregnancy. Caroline has exactly one photo of herself pregnant: one she took with her phone, in front of a mirror, when she was around 32 weeks along. She had just returned to the compound after a month in the Bayou and was finally beginning to ease into the idea of bringing a child into this world. For the first time, she felt comfortable enough to look at herself as a mother-to-be, and snapped the photo. What came to pass not long after means it doesn't stir in her the kind of sweet nostalgia she’d hoped it would.

The second plant she bought, a rather lush little tree with a complicated name Caroline can't remember for the life of her, she puts on the side table next to the couch, closer to the window, where it’ll get more light.

Caroline's track record taking care of real plants is faultless: she's killed every single one she's ever tried to groom. With a toddler in tow, it's doubtful she'll be faring any better, but she thought she'd at least give it a try before surrendering to the artificial ones. Her mother is big on plants, took up gardening years ago as a way to destress when Caroline's teenage hormones were at its peak at the beginning of high school and work was simply too much. Liz now preaches about the wonders of relaxing hobbies such as yoga and growing her own tomatoes. Caroline is more of an essential oils and scrapbooking kind of girl, but oils and scrapbooks won't inject life into her living room.

Having two plants hardly qualifies as _gardening_ , but everyone has to start somewhere, right? It's not like she has a garden, anyway. Pretty looking daisies and a little tree are a good fit for her modest two-bedrooms rental in Whitmore.

It was supposed to be a temporary thing. A month, tops. Caroline had high hopes that by Eve's birthday they would be well-settled into her childhood home in Mystic Falls. Three months later, it's safe to say absolutely nothing has gone according to plan so far.

Going back to Virginia was a wild ride right off the start. Caroline’s idea was to surprise Liz by showing up on her doorstep with a baby in her arms and a sign saying _Congrats! You're a grandma!_ You know what they say: when life gives you lemons, add some sugar, cachaça, ice cubes and make a caipirinha. Or something. Someday, she thought, they’d be telling this story gasping for air from so much laughter.

There was no easy way to deliver the kind of news she had, so Caroline just thought she'd go ahead and rip off the band-aid at once. It was simple enough, if not exactly comfortable. For some reason, however, some supernatural sixth sense kicked in at the last minute. Or maybe it was just good old panic. Caroline was struck by the sudden need to tell someone she was on her way. Test the waters, see if Rebekah's compulsion had some weird side effect that would have everyone telling her to stay away. So she stopped at a restaurant about an hour outside of Mystic Falls for a diaper change, considered all the contacts on her phone and decided to start with Elena.

That seemingly irrational, spur-of-the-moment phone call saved her life.

One of the known effects of the compulsion was that people didn't feel like sharing with Caroline whenever something _big_ happened in Mystic Falls, a fail-safe Rebekah used to prevent her suddenly wanting to drop everything in New Orleans and head back home. Ignorance is bliss, they say. This time, ignorance could've cost Caroline dearly.

The _big thing_ that was deliberately left out of every conversation she had with her friends and her mother in the months prior to her return was that vampires are banned from crossing into Mystic Falls. Some crazy witchy folks called the Travelers cast a spell over the entire town that simply wipes out anything they deemed as _impure magic_ \- meaning, anything that wasn't themselves. That includes almost all kinds of witchcraft, daylight rings and the very magic that makes vampires possible. Even triggered werewolves revert to their untriggered forms. The Travelers are now gone, but their spell remains, and it snuffs out every layer of known magic there is, making Mystic Falls a big _no-no_ for supernatural beings of any kind.

Elena was super excited that Caroline was coming back, couldn't wait to see her, but said she and Stefan would unfortunately not be able to join the welcome home committee because any vampires who set foot within the city's boundaries would immediately go back to their last moments as humans - namely, the last seconds before they died. Stefan would have a bullet in his stomach, Elena would have her lungs filled with water - and Caroline would have a lovely gash from side to side on her throat, oozing blood horror-movie style.

"Holy crap," she gasped. "How come nobody tells me these things?!"

"I... I don't know.” Elena sounded like she thought that was a very good question that she should have an appropriate answer for but somehow didn’t.

"What does Bonnie say? Is that permanent?"

Elena's pause and subsequent heavy sigh marked the _second_ big thing that was kept from Caroline. Bonnie was gone. Not _gone_ , gone. At least not like everyone had originally thought. She and Damon ended up trapped in a supernatural Groundhog Day, a different dimension where they kept reliving the same day in 1994 over and over again. Everyone thought they were dead after the Other Side imploded - until Damon managed to come back. And if Damon is back, that means there's a chance for Bonnie as well. At least now they know she's alive, and that it _is_ possible to escape. They're just having a hard time figuring out how to pull her out, exactly.

The truth is if she couldn't head to Mystic Falls, Caroline had no idea what to do or where to go. That was literally her entire plan. Calling Liz to say, _Hey, mom, guess who can't home anymore?_ sounded like the worst possible way to break the worst possible news. Under the guise of wanting to make some big surprise for her mom, she asked Elena to help and headed to Whitmore instead.

Her friend called Liz and gave her an excuse to have her go to the college campus, where Caroline met the two of them at Elena's dorm room. The dorm room that was supposed to be a triple one but was a double instead, for just Elena and Bonnie. The lack of a third bed was _screaming_ at her with all the _what ifs_ that never came to be.

Being there was like walking into an alternate reality of her own, peeking into what her life might've turned out to be had she never given in to her deepest, most secret desires and slept with Klaus almost two years ago. It's not like Caroline hasn't been incredibly aware, at times painfully so, of how much that one night changed things for her, but it's different, getting to _see it_ firsthand.

College. Dorm rooms. Good old Stefan-Damon-Elena drama. A new psychopath whose name starts with a K wreaking havoc all over. This is where she would be if life had flown its natural course. Caroline couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have stuck to her old ambitions – if she had never grown feelings for the Big Bad Wolf, if she had never become pregnant. Would Klaus get someone else knocked up? Would that woman have been better at navigating New Orleans than she was? Would the Mikaelsons be happier? Would she? Would Eve, having a different mom?

It's a dangerous train of thought to follow, and a rather ungrateful one. The last two years were the hardest, most gruesome she's ever had in many, _many_ ways, but it also changed the very fabric of her being, both literally and figuratively. She's no longer the girl who wanted nothing more than to strive for a normal life even if the world around her was anything but - college degree, career, a big June wedding with Mr. _Absolutely_ Right. Instead, Caroline became a warrior in New Orleans, a leader and an honorary werewolf. Not in her wildest dreams did she ever envision something even remotely like that in her future.

Above everything, however, she became a mother. Eve is a huge part of everything that's different about her now. And the bottom line is, and will always be: there's no promise of a moderately sane and stable life that would ever be worth her daughter.

It's striking how quickly she went from being terrified by the idea of having a baby - _Klaus'_ magical mystery baby, more specifically - to not being able to imagine a world without hers. A life where she stayed in Mystic Falls is a life where Eve never existed, and so a life she never wanted to have lived, even with all the hardships and inconvenient deaths. All those mellow things parents say about the greatest, strongest, most unconditional love anyone could ever experience... It's all true.

Caroline was low-key scared that no one would even recognize her anymore. That she had strayed even further from her old self than she'd imagined. That she'd be forced to confront parts of her transformation she had long ceased to struggle with, and maybe realize that things hadn’t all turned out for the best, after all. And, well, the whole _Surprise! I had a baby with Klaus!_ thing was pretty daunting, too.

As she drove from New Orleans to Virginia, wired up on anxiety, her mind painted every colorful scenario under the sun. In the end, however, anticipation turned out to be more painful than reality.

Elena couldn't speak for a whole minute. Liz had to take a seat. There were wide-eyes and slack jaws galore, followed by tears (Liz) and tight hugs (Elena) and _many_ choked up apologies (Caroline), as well as an endless string of questions. But no one threatened to kill her. No one turned their backs on her. No one tried to make her feel like crap. Not on purpose, anyway.

Liz and Elena were upset she lied to them for so long, kept her pregnancy a secret, _died_ , came back as a vampire and still didn't tell them the truth. There was a world of indignation and incredulity packed into their protests and objections, but they eventually accepted Caroline's less than compelling explanations, even if they were still very much against them, if for no other reason than because there was nothing they could do about it anymore.

"You would've done the same thing, Elena. You can't tell me that you wouldn't," Caroline said matter-of-factly. Her friend drew a long breath in to argue, but then clamped her mouth shut when she realized she really couldn't. Elena was the girl who became a vampire because she refused to let Stefan save her before Matt. Deciding to stay away from the people she loves in order to keep them safe would've been an easier choice for her than it was for Caroline.

"And what about me?" Liz demanded. "I'm your mother, Caroline. I can't believe you would go through all that and not tell me!"

Liz was hurt, and then distraught, and then incredibly emotional. And then all at once. She couldn't decide whether to scold Caroline, or to hug her until neither of them could breathe, or to simply stare at Eve in sheer awe.

"I wanted to tell you, mom. _So much_. Every time I spoke to you on the phone, every time I felt the baby kick, every time I had a doubt... I never wanted to go through a pregnancy and not have my mom there, but it wasn't a hard decision to make. With everything that was going on... I knew the second I told you, you'd get on the first plane to Louisiana."

"Of course I would! My daughter, pregnant, alone and _in danger_! What would you expect me to do?"

"Exactly. It's precisely because of that that I never said a thing. If you or anyone else had decided to head over there, you'd be putting yourselves in the line of fire. I saw good, innocent people get hurt and die in that stupid war. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. That was a risk I wasn't willing to take. Besides... I wasn't alone. I was never alone."

The vampire part was slightly harder to swallow than the adorable secret baby, of course.

"You died, Caroline," her mother kept saying every other minute, like she was trying to wrap her own mind around the fact that, in order to become a vampire, her daughter had to be killed first. "You _died_! You were dead and I wasn't there! And I never even knew!"

There was an evident measure of betrayal in the way she spoke, the way she would look at Caroline as though afraid of what she would find. She seemed desperate to be convinced that her daughter was still there, exactly as she remembered. Caroline did her best to show Liz whatever she needed in order to put her unease to rest, being as open as she knew how, but the truth was harsh no matter how gentle the delivery.

If this had happened two years ago, she’s certain Liz would've had a much harder time accepting it. But living among vampires and becoming best friends with one probably eased her into acceptance, even if knowing her daughter was, for all intents and purposes, _dead_ , was still a punch to her guts.

"I know, mom. I _know_ , ok? But it's not like I planned for any of that to happen. Things were... Complicated. I know I messed up, I did a lot of things I regret, but... I was just trying to do the best I could, given the circumstances. Just trying to survive."

"Why didn't you at least tell us that you were a vampire?" Elena asked in that soft, prodding way of hers. "We could've helped you, Caroline. Stefan and I would've come to you."

She had to stop then, take a steadying breath, try to collect her scattered thoughts. It wasn't easy to explain why she'd stayed away from her family, her home, her friends, even after things settled a little. Most of the time, Caroline didn't even know why herself. All she knew was that the idea of going home filled her with a terrible dread. In the end, she knows it was the right choice; Dahlia would've followed her wherever she'd gone, and things would've been a lot worse if they'd taken the war to Mystic Falls' - or Whitmore's - much more vulnerable turf. Being in New Orleans - close to Klaus, his family, the Crescents and the Treme witches - might've been the thing that saved Eve’s life.

"Eve is... A special child, simply putting it. A lot of people didn't want her to live. And so, for the first six months of her life, I couldn't be with her. She was taken away to somewhere safe. And the idea of coming back and not being able to tell you about her, to have to lie to you and pretend that she was dead... I couldn't do it. I could barely think about it. It was hard enough not to have her with me; to talk about her as if she was gone, not knowing when I would see her again... It was a pain that I couldn't bear. The only thing that justified me being a vampire was her, and if I couldn't speak about her, then... I didn't really know how to face you."

"Why would anybody want her dead?" her mother asked. "She's just a baby."

"When you say special," Elena started tentatively. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

And that was the second part of the conversation. The one where Caroline had to come clean about how Eve was conceived. And with _whom._

Vampirism and surprise!baby, astounding news though it might have been, were nothing compared to the shock that registered on everyone's faces when Caroline revealed the father's identity.

"Well... Eve's full name is... Eve _Elizabeth_ ," she paused to share a grin with her mother, "Forbes... Hyphen..." Caroline cleared her throat, looked away. The last name came out of her mouth a mumble. "Mikaelson."

"Did you just say... Mikaelson?" Elena asked, a puzzle written across her face.

"Yup."

"Mikaelson as in... _Original_ Mikaelson?"

"That would be the one, yes."

"Why would you name your daughter after the Original family?" her mother questioned when she failed to provide any further clarifications.

"Well... Because she's one of them."

"How is she one of them, Caroline?"

"You’re not making any sense," Elena added.

"It's Klaus, ok? She is Klaus' daughter. He's the father," she blurted out, the confession coming out more tersely than she’d intended it to.

There was a long silence while the information sank in. They waited for her to laugh, say it was a joke, _The look on your faces, oh my God, this is hilarious!_ kind of thing. But as she bit her lower lip in anticipation, wringing her hands nervously on her lap, they finally understood that she was serious. Eyebrows slowly raised in disbelieved arches; lips parted in wordless consternation.

" _Klaus_?" Elena half choked, half yelled, her eyes so big they were about to jump out of her face. Caroline thought she was having a stroke. "You had a baby with _Klaus_?!"

“That’s what I just said.”

"But you and... _Klaus_... How..." Elena made a vague grunting noise under her breath to mark her question.

Caroline simply shrugged. "What do you want me to say? It happened. Klaus and I had sex; baby ensued. That’s the story."

"But he's... Isn't that... Klaus is not... What the hell, Caroline?!" her mother - her _sweet, sweet_ mother who made Caroline put a dollar in the swear jar every time she cursed - stumbled through her convoluted ideas, trying to make sense of the impossible.

"Don't ask me how or why, I don't understand it any more than you. All I was told is that he's some kind of nature loophole because he's the Original hybrid, the first one ever. I think what they meant to say was that when he awakened his werewolf side, it was like something inside of him came back to life. The part that makes babies, I guess.” She frowned, her feeble explanation sounding ridiculous to her own ears.

To this day, Caroline has no reasonable explanation to why Klaus is such a special little reproductive snowflake, and she spent a good while researching it in the early days, trying to understand just what kind of mess she’d gotten herself into. But that hardly matters now. It happened; the baby is already there. _Why_ seems like the least important part.

"Wait, so... Klaus can... You know. He’s a vampire who can get… people pregnant?" Elena asked.

"Any fertile living woman, I guess."

"How do you know it doesn’t work on vampires?"

Caroline gave her a pointed look. “If it did, I think I would’ve found out.”

“ _Oh._ ” Elena blinked, a frown on her face. “You were… _With_ him? Like… _Together_?”

Elena’s disbelieved intonation got Caroline’s hackles immediately up. As much as she tried to prepare herself for the inquisition, she couldn’t help being defensive. She caught herself before she got snappish, though, tried to see things through their eyes. Elena seemed more shocked than judgmental, and while it made Caroline’s skin crawl with the need to stand up for herself against an accusation that hadn’t even been made, she couldn’t deny that there was cause for perplexity. She was the one carrying the impossible baby and it took her months to fully grasp the idea.

If she had been told that one of her best friends had secretly mothered the child of an evil villain who had been _dead_ for well over a thousand years, she would probably be somewhat bewildered, too.

Her hand shot up to her necklace then, her thumb nervously stroking the moss agate pendant. The very vague, very cryptic _It’s complicated_ answer crossed her mind. But even if there was some accuracy in that fact – when has anything with Klaus ever _not_ been complicated? -, it was still fundamentally untrue. They never really gave a name to what they were, but there was nothing ambiguous or unclear about their status – and, more importantly, about their feelings.

“Not from the start, not until after Eve was born, not really, but… Yeah, we were… Together.”

"You were seeing Klaus while you were here?" Liz asked, probably racking her brain after signs she might’ve missed that her daughter had been dating Mystic Falls’ former Bad Guy in Chief right under her nose.

"No, nothing like that. It was one time. One night. And then..." she motioned towards Eve.

"And how do you know for sure that it's his?" her mother challenged.

"Well, if my inexplicable vampire transformation wasn't enough confirmation that this is no ordinary child, then I guess the evil aunt from hell wanting to collect on a bargain made a thousand years ago was all the paternity test anyone needed."

"Did you know about that when you... you know?"

"When we slept together? You can say it, Elena.”

"Sorry. It's just... You and Klaus, it... Takes a little getting used to."

"I know,” Caroline sighed, trying to rein in her flaring temper. She knew Klaus would be a hard-to-swallow pill, even more so than the secret pregnancy. It’s not like she wasn’t ready for the outrage or the denial, it’s just harder to face it head-on without feeling like she’s being judged. “It took a little getting used to for me, too. But no, I didn't know there was a chance I could get pregnant, and neither did he. We found out when the witches came for me. If you think you're shocked, imagine what I was like. Imagine _Klaus_."

Over the next couple of weeks, Caroline repeated the same story several times. 

Stefan was, by far, the easiest. When it came the time to tell him, he just stared at her in silence for a whole minute.

"I don’t think I have anything to say that is even remotely up to standards here," was his reply. Caroline cracked up laughing because, honestly. That was the most appropriate reaction anyone could possibly have.

Damon, because he's Damon, barged in uninvited while she was talking to his brother. "No offense but has anyone told you your baby looks like Klaus?" he asked after taking a look at Eve. "What is that, Barbie, the power of wishful thinking?"

Annoying though he was, Damon was oddly _nice_ about the whole thing – or as nice as Damon knows how to be about anything -, keeping his sarcastic commentary to a minimum. Maybe out of respect for Liz more so than for Caroline's situation. That, or being stranded with Bonnie in a different dimension rubbed off on him in a good way, for a change.

The worst actually came from Matt.

He was the only one who dared to utter the words " _How could you?_ ", his loyalty to Tyler glittering. It made Caroline see red.

"Doing it," she retorted bluntly. "If you expect me to be sorry, then you're in for a disappointment. I'm way past that."

"He ruined Ty's life, Care. He killed Carol, ran him out of town. You should've seen what Ty was like when he came back from New Orleans. He was a wreck. It took him months to even start getting his life back on track. And to think that you had been there, that you knew about all that..."

"Oh? So Tyler mentioned Klaus beat the crap out of him, but he forgot to mention _why_? Well, I have a story for you."

Apparently, Tyler never said a word to anyone about how he tried to kill her and the baby. Didn't even tell anyone about Klaus' magical offspring, and that the only reason he'd headed over to New Orleans was to get rid of her _for the greater good_. Suffice it to say that the truth changed Matt's opinion pretty fast; as much as he hates Klaus, he draws a line on attempted murder against innocent children. Plus, nobody can resist Eve's charm for long. She's just too darn adorable for anyone to hold grudges over her for things her father did a million years ago.

Knowing Tyler was in town made Caroline extremely anxious. Elena said he wasn't a hybrid anymore, having spent a brief moment on the Other Side after being pushed across the Mystic Falls border. When Bonnie brought him back, he was no more than a mortal untriggered werewolf. If he tried anything, Caroline knew that she'd be able to easily kick his ass all the way to freaking Timbuktu, but the mere thought of running into him again unnerved her. She did everything in her power to avoid him, but with Tyler going to Whitmore, it was a matter of time before it happened.

"Hey, Care," he said, all sheepish waves and shuffling feet.

Caroline's instincts immediately kicked in. She tightened her grip on the stroller, clenched her jaw and sharpened her eyes, ready to jet off in vamp speed, but Tyler stopped her by put both his palms out in a peace sign.

"I promise I’ll be quick, just… Hear me out, ok? Matt told me you were back and I... Well, I've been thinking about how to talk to you. I know you probably don't want to hear anything I have to say, but... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did, I'm sorry I tried to hurt you, tried to hurt..." He paused, his eyes going down to Eve, blissfully unaware that the man standing before her and offering her a soft smile was a past assailant. "She looks like you."

"Ok," Caroline replied, cold as ice. “Message received.”

"Look... I know it's no excuse, and you don't have to forgive me. I don't really expect you to. I just... Wanted you to know that I'm really sorry. I was in a bad place back then. I'd lost everything - my mom, my house, my friends... My whole life was in shatters. I didn’t know who I was anymore. All I could think of was revenge. I wanted to kill him or die trying, it felt like that was all there was for me. And when I heard about - well, _you_ , I just... Lost it. I should've never done that and I'm ashamed. Anyway... I know we'll never be friends again, but, since you're here now, you should know that you have nothing to fear from me. I mean no harm to you or to your little girl.”

Tyler broke something fundamental between them when he came for her child. If he'd just been hurt and angry and called her every name under the sun for sleeping with Klaus, she would've been crestfallen, but she would've understood. He's right; he was an idiot for trusting Hayley and thinking a bunch of baby hybrids could ever take on Klaus, but his life was ruined. After going through a transformation and a terrible loss herself, Caroline understands, on a very personal level, how hard it is to resist some of the primal desires that come with becoming a vampire, especially the thirst for revenge. But when he chose to hurt Eve, Tyler crossed a line he can never go back from. She won't ever see him the same way again. Although... Hearing from him that he was over trying to ambush her and hurt her baby was a relief. At least Caroline could drop the paranoia and walk freely again, not dreading running into him every time she turned a corner.

At the end of the day, none of the bad stuff - the Tyler drama, Damon's inappropriate remarks and the way Elena would scrunch up her nose whenever Caroline mentioned Klaus' name - could take the sparkle out of the good. It all became but a footnote next to how radiant Liz was. Once she managed to overcome the worst of the shock, the concerns that came with Caroline’s new vampire nature and the revelation about Eve’s father, not to mention the general dissatisfaction over being kept in the dark through her daughter's most trying times, she was just... Glowing. As thrilled as Caroline hoped she would be. The connection with Eve was instantaneous; the second she saw the baby, before Caroline had even said anything, her mother's eyes were already welling up.

"She looks exactly like you when you were that age," she said later, Eve sleeping in her grandmother’s arms while she gently rocked her. “It's like a blast from the past."

The endless stream of awkward conversations and getting up to speed on everything she'd missed out on while she was away (which was _a lot_ ; New Orleans might've been murkier waters than Mystic Falls, but not by much – basically everyone was dead at some point) was not as bad as what came after, though. The absolute worst part of it all was trying to settle back into a life that just didn’t feel like hers anymore.

Caroline’s first week back in Virginia was spent in Whitmore sharing Elena's dorm room, and it was enough for her to realize that she will definitely not be giving the whole college experience a try any time soon.

"You can stay for as long as you want," Elena offered. "Bonnie's bed is empty for now anyway and there's enough room for the baby crib. Besides, this little cutie and I are having fun!" And they really were. Much like every other human being on the face of earth, Eve took an immediate liking to Elena, and the feeling was mutual. But seeing as there was no indication that the Travelers’ spell would be lifted off Mystic Falls any time soon, Caroline decided to get her own place, _away_ from campus.

She still wanted to be in Whitmore because it was close enough to her mom and it was nice to have Elena nearby, but college life and children just don't really mix. Her admiration for moms, especially new ones, who put themselves through college grew tenfold in the sole week she spent with Elena.

After living in outrageous mansions for over a year, the little apartment took some adjusting to. Decorating the place offered a much welcome distraction, but not a guilt-free one. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach the whole time she was putting together the new baby room. The memory of walking into the nursery at the compound for the first time was a scorching one, probably one of the most wholesome and magical moments of her entire insane pregnancy. The Crescents' camp had just been bombed, Eve, her friend, was dead, and she'd returned to the Mikaelson house drowning in grief and doubts. When she saw what Klaus had done with that empty old dressing room connected to her bedroom, all on his own, it was like something clicked inside of her. For the first time since Caroline set foot in New Orleans, she felt truly home. Safe. Reality hit her with full force: she and Klaus were going to be parents. It's hard to top that.

Eve's room looks beautiful, though she would've probably done more had she been back at her house in Mystic Falls. Painted the walls, changed the curtains, chosen different furniture for a bigger room. Still, that feeling that something is amiss remains a constant nagging. Every time she walks in, her eyes will fall on a different corner and she’ll get this _hollow_ feeling in her chest.

As beautiful as it is, it's just not the same.

The more she tried to make the apartment feel like home, the more glaring it became that the issue with it isn't the place itself or even the things her limited budget could afford. It’s the things that _aren't_ there. The people. Or one person in particular.

She tried not to think about it, to keep her mind on what was in front of her instead of what wasn't. Being so close to her mother again, seeing as her bond with Eve grew stronger and stronger each day, filled Caroline with so much love. Liz still has to be in Mystic Falls for work, but she is basically commuting to work from Whitmore every day, going back to Caroline's place every night and spending all of her free time with the two of them. She was there when Eve took her first stumbly steps, when she mumbled her first word and when she turned one. Caroline doesn’t think she would've made it through that day without her mom.

The party was small, just the three of them plus Elena, Matt and Stefan. Paper hats, pretty balloons and a nice cake. Eve had the time of her life with everyone fawning over her, showering her with gifts and all the sugary treats Caroline doesn't normally let her eat. But it was hard to ignore the heaviness in Caroline's chest. It was there the whole time.

She sent Klaus a text about it, said he was more than welcome to show up if he felt like it. But as with every other message she sent him since she left New Orleans, there was no reply. Klaus’ response to her decision to leave has been the incredibly mature silent treatment. No calls, no messages, no letters. Nothing.

For her birthday, Elijah sent Eve an obscenely large teddy bear that took up more space than the baby. With it, came an amulet spelled by Freya, to hang on top of Eve’s crib. She said it was supposed to keep bad dreams away. Rebekah, who was in Europe, sent the cutest combination of polka-dotted dress, bloomers and tiny Mary Jane shoes that Caroline's ever seen.

The gift Eve loved the most, however, was the small one she got from her absent father.

There was no card, no name, no message. Just a beautiful box, wrapped in a huge silk ribbon, left on her doorstep. It was so classic Klaus Caroline didn't even have to open to know who it was from. Inside, there were two things: a vintage looking baby rattle with a beautifully complicated flower pattern sculpted onto it, all in silver, and the little wooden knight that once belonged to Rebekah and that Caroline had regrettably left behind - not on purpose. She thought it was in the baby bag, where it always was, but Eve apparently dropped it somewhere and Caroline didn’t realize it until she couldn’t find it in her things. There was a moment of panic while she rummaged everything after it, like that wooden knight was something of a lifeline. Elijah and Freya couldn't find it at the compound or at Elijah’s loft either. Caroline was so disappointed in herself for losing it.

Every time Eve started fussing before sleep, she just knew that she wanted her comfort toy. "I know, baby girl," she'd whisper to her. "I miss him, too."

She never texted Klaus about the disappearance of the knight, thought he’d be even angrier than he already was, accuse her of having done it on purpose - if he ever bothered replying, that is. The thing was, after all, over a thousand years old. It was more than a family heirloom; it was a relic. But while she was freaking out and beating herself up for losing the knight, he’d had it all along.

It's such an inappropriate thing to hand a one-year old; it's small, old and made of wood, and Eve’s in that phase where she likes to explore things with her mouth. But it's by far her favorite toy. Almost like there's some real magic imbued into it. Like she knows what it means, why it was sculpted, and, more importantly, by whom.

The rattle looked expensive and like it belonged in someone's eccentric private collection, not in the hands of an overexcited baby, but Eve just wouldn't let go of the damn thing, shaking and shaking and shaking and driving Caroline crazy. Having vampire hearing and a toddler in such a small apartment can be trying sometimes, and she would bet her money on Klaus having chosen the rattle on purpose just to annoy her. Still, Caroline didn't have it in her to take it away from Eve. She got all those modern, colorful Fisher Price stuff, plush toys of all shapes and sizes, but what does her little mind in are a simple rattle and a knight made of wood.

Klaus just... knows his daughter.

 _She loved the gifts_ , Caroline wrote to him. _No, really._ And then she attached a video of Eve going nuts with the rattle, the wooden knight firmly grasped in her other hand. _Driving me crazy, btw. Thanks._ She thought he would be proud and boastful and feel like writing back, at last. No such luck.

As promised, Caroline recorded and photographed every tiny thing, shooting daily cuteness updates. All the people on her baby watch list reply religiously. Sometimes they call or facetime. Even Elijah, who's somewhat averse to video chats, does it. But not Klaus. It's like he's not even there. Or, more accurately, like she isn’t. As though the second she decided to leave New Orleans, she was dead to him.

"Ok, I have to confess something," Freya told her in one of her calls to get _news from the front_ , which was a not-so-subtle code for Klaus. Since he refused to talk to her directly, Caroline had to go through other sources. It was about a month and a half after she left for Virginia, and so far, despite his radio silence, all Elijah and Freya would tell her was that he was moody and insufferable and stuck in his studio all day long. And then it turned out that it wasn’t exactly the case. 

"Klaus is not here," the witch sister blurted out.

"What do you mean, he's not there? Did he go somewhere?"

"Well, yes. A month ago. And he hasn't come back."

Caroline's heart dropped so fast she gasped, a cold sensation creeping up her insides. "So... When you and Elijah say that he's in his room -"

"He was. Until he wasn't. I've tried to call him, I've even tried a locator spell on him. It worked once; he was somewhere near Tennessee. But then he got off the radar and I don't know where he went next. Elijah said it was better if we waited a little before we told you, that maybe he would show up, but... I guess we can't keep you in the dark forever. I'm sorry. Klaus is gone."

Klaus' silence was hurtful enough. But knowing that he'd actually decided to vanish into the world without a single word about it just twisted the knife in. She left, but he knows exactly where she is. So precisely, in fact, that he sent a gift straight to her doorstep. Now not only she can't reach him, but she doesn’t even know what he’s up to anymore. He could be anywhere, doing anything, with anyone. Moving on with his life.

It only rubbed salt into an already ugly wound.

"Why would he do that?" she asked Freya, a snap in her voice.

"He's just... Really bad at apologizing, I guess. He can't say anything unless he says he's sorry, so he just... Disappears instead. Elijah said it's not the first time he's done that."

"But I'm not even _asking_ him to say sorry! This isn't about me. It's his _daughter_. And she's _walking_. And _talking_! And he doesn't give a damn!"

Freya just sighed. "Caroline... Honestly, I don’t know what to tell you. You know him better than I do."

Freya was right. She does know him. She knows Klaus is stubborn and thick-headed and proud. She knows that, when he's hurt, his knee-jerk reaction is to turn cold and distant and vengeful – to sting back. But understanding how he operates and knowing he’s doing it on purpose doesn't make anything better because it _works_. She is hurt and stung, so he's doing a great job.

When she decided to leave, Caroline said she needed _time_. She didn't say she was over him. Or that she hated him. Or that he should leave her alone. She _specifically_ told him she wanted him to remain in Eve's life. Having a kid makes break-ups and separations a whole lot harder, but she was determined to put whatever complicated feelings she had aside in order to keep Klaus' relationship with his daughter unaffected. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he doesn’t know how to be an adult about this.

And it’s not even like she was acting on a whim or being a totally selfish brat. Caroline had very solid reasons to want to go home for a while. For starters, she hadn't seen her mother in over a year. At some point, she'd have to tell people about what happened, about Eve, and the best way to do that, perhaps the _only_ way to do that, was face to face. After dying for the second time, Caroline realized that the _right time_ she kept on waiting for might never come. And just to cap it all off, Klaus' sheer incapacity to own up to the crap he pulled on everyone and repent, even if just a tiny little bit, made her _bitter_. She could barely look at him - or anyone else, for that matter - without being consumed by guilt.

Even now, three months later, every time Caroline thinks about the Crescents, every time she sees Eve with the plushy wolf Jackson gave her, her heart cramps up. It gnaws at her in such a way she’s even taken to seeing imaginary wolves around. Once, while she was out on a stroll with Eve, she thought she spotted one staring ominously at her from an alley, its bright golden eyes fierce and predatory. It felt so _real_ , almost as real as the fear and the guilt it sparked in her. But then she blinked, and the wolf was gone, just a prank from her remorseful mind, not allowing her to forget.

They _needed_ time - to think, to heal, to understand. But trust Klaus to be completely blinded to his own faults and make himself out to be the sole victim.

One day, when frustrations blew up and Klaus' determination to never speak to her again made her angry beyond reason, her mother caught her with tears in her eyes, furiously typing a message to Elijah in the middle of the night.

"Come on. Tell me," Liz said in that velvety voice of hers that just makes her impossible to deny.

Caroline laid her head on her mother's lap and felt a torrent of emotions pouring out of her chest as words rose to her mouth. Every tiny detail she'd failed to disclose about her and Klaus, everything that went on between them since her very first day in New Orleans, came rushing out. She was pretty open about all of the action, the plots, the betrayals, the bloody faction wars in the Crescent City, and did not sugarcoat the fact she and Klaus had been together. But she never really went into specifics. Didn't think her mother was ready or even wanted to hear about that part of the story.

That night, Caroline finally came clean. About what happened, and about the true depth of her feelings.

"Oh, sweetie..." her mother cooed while she caressed Caroline's hair. "You really did fall hard for him, didn't you? I will never pretend to understand how, but... I guess you always did have a thing for the bad boys."

"Mom!" she protested weakly. "Don't mock me. I'm struggling here, ok?"

"I know, sweetheart. I'm not mocking you, just stating facts. Although the way you talk about Klaus... It's almost like you're talking about someone else. Not the same man I met here."

Everyone thinks they know Klaus so well, that they have the entire scope of his vileness mapped out. Klaus is a monster, period. And it's all true. Just not the whole story. They know what he wanted them to know. They saw what he wanted them to see. It's hard to explain how Klaus both is and isn't the man they think they know.

He _wanted_ people to fear him, to cower away at the sound of his name. More than satisfaction, it brought him a twisted sense of control, even if it didn't bring him any joy. It seems impossible that all of his contradictions should exist inside one person, but it does. There is no Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; they’re all one and the same. Klaus is both the man who holds his child so tenderly while he tells her bedtime stories and the man who slaughtered 12 of his own hybrids in cold blood out of revenge and then drowned Carol Lockwood in a fountain. He is the man who would walk through hell fire for Caroline, who looks at her with a reverence and a passion that gives her life, and the man who murdered Jenna. The man who would put a dagger through his own heart to save the people he loves, and the man who would put a dagger through his brother's girlfriend's heart just to teach him a lesson.

He’s all that, and more. So much more. Klaus has no edges.

Caroline doesn't even try to clarify these things, both because she can't - and, unlike Cami, knows that there's no psychology in this world to make sense out of millennium old Originals - and because she doesn't want to make excuses for all the hurt he has caused. But to pretend that the past two years didn't affect him in a deeper, more fundamental way as it affected her would be a lie. He _has_ changed. He fell in love; he became a father. If nothing else, he gained something to lose.

Even if she's still mad at him, even if she can't forgive what he did to the werewolves, she still loves him so much it hurts. Caroline cried the whole night on her first day in her new apartment. Everything about it was lovely, but moving into a place that was only hers, even if it was meant to be temporary, cut her chest right open. She kept telling Klaus that the things he does mean more, because _he_ means more. And so does his indifference.

When she went out today to get some color to add to her living room, what she had in mind was a couple of pictures to hang on the walls. But she couldn't look at the prints at Target and not think of how Klaus would twist his lips and look at her with offense if he saw her choosing mass-produced fake paintings from a supermarket. Instead of making her laugh, it gave her a sharp twinge in her chest. She knew then that she'd never be able to have anything hanging on her walls and not think of Klaus and his stupid snobbish artistic tastes. So Caroline had to go with plan B: plants.

"Who wants donuts?" Liz asks as she returns from her coffee run. To be honest, what Caroline _truly_ wants is a good bag of B+, but she tries to keep the feeding to absolute minimal when her mother's around. Doesn't want to freak her out. She felt weird feeding in front of normal people before, in front of Liz... It's a whole other level of awkward.

She's been keeping her stash on the low side, so her mom won't have to deal with a fridge full of blood bags, but that means her trips to the nearest hospital - or, sometimes, to Elena's dorm room - are more frequent than she would like. In the long run, this might be something she'll have to think over.

"Oh, thank God!" she says as she moves the little tree to this side and the other, trying to find the best spot. "I need to munch on -"

The sound of something heavy dropping to the floor interrupts Caroline. She turns around to see her mother, eyes closed, sprawled in the middle of the living room. In a flash, she's there, crouching down beside her.

"Mom," she says, urgent, cold dread twisting sharply at the pit of her stomach. "Mom, wake up."

Liz shudders a little as she gasps. Slowly, she blinks back into consciousness. She tries to pull herself into a sitting position, but Caroline holds her in place, cradling her next to her body. Her mother's heart rate has gone dangerously low, her skin feels so cold to the touch.

"Wow," Liz rasps out. "I just got really..." She presses her eyes shut against the lingering dizziness, boneless in Caroline’s arms.

It seems her trip to the hospital will happen sooner than she expected.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Hey."

Elena's timid greeting jerks Caroline out of her thoughts, her eyes dry from staring unblinking for too long. The doctors kicked her out of her mother's room, but she's been planted in front of the window outside, keeping guard as they conduct all manner of exams. They work remarkably silently, much to her chagrin. She can't even make use of her vampire hearing to figure out what's going on.

"Hi," she replies, sparing only a glance at her friend before turning her attention back to the doctors.

"Natalie is with Eve," she says. "She was napping when I left."

"Thank you, Elena. Sorry for -"

"Don't apologize, Care. What happened?"

When Liz passed out, what Caroline wanted to do was pick her up and flash her over to the nearest hospital, but she knew that was despair speaking, not reason. Almost two years living with indestructible Originals left her out of touch with caring for normal people in normal ways. Instead, she helped her mom comfortably to the couch, gave her water and made three phone calls. The first was to emergency, requesting an ambulance - and name-dropping Mystic Falls' sheriff helped a lot. The second was to the babysitter. The third was to Elena. Because she wouldn't be able to wait for the sitter, she asked her friend to watch Eve while she headed to the hospital. Elena didn't even wait for her to finish before saying, "I'm on my way". Staying close to friends really was a smart decision. She was there before the ambulance arrived.

"I don't know," she speaks around a sigh. "She just... collapsed. One second she was talking to me, the next she was on the ground. Maybe she forgot to eat, got low blood sugar... Sometimes she skips breakfast."

"And when was the last time you ate, Caroline?" Elena prods. "As in _fed_?" she whispers.

"God, you sound like Elijah," Caroline mutters around an eyeroll. "I'm fine. I can handle it."

"You look pale."

"Of course I look pale, my mother just fainted out of nowhere," she snaps. And then she stops, letting out a frustrated gust of air. "I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge." Caroline takes a step back and sinks down on the bench on the opposite side of the corridor.

"It's ok. I would be, too, if it was my mom." Elena sits down next to her.

"They have her sedated. She's gonna be asleep for a while, but I can't stop watching. Can you just... Distract me? Tell me about the Ascendant. How's the search going?"

"Not good," Elena admits. "Damon and I spent the night researching and got nothing."

"God, poor Bonnie..." Caroline shakes her head, her shoulders sagging as she leans back against her seat.

Ever since Damon returned from the 1994 prison world where he and Bonnie had been trapped, they've been searching for this Ascendant thing to get Bonnie out of there. All Caroline knows is that it's a mystical artifact some ancient witch family, the Gemini Coven, used to imprison people in time bubbles or something of the sort. Damon and Bonnie ended up in the prison world where they'd been keeping their degenerate son Kai, who has obviously escaped and is now merrily terrorizing everyone's lives while Bonnie was left behind. Evil has a way of triumphing over good around here.

"We're not giving up," Elena says. "We'll figure it out. Now that we know she's alive, we're not stopping until we get her back."

Caroline nods, offering her friend a smile. She missed Elena's dogged spirit and relentless disposition. So much crap has happened to her - she lost her family, her house, her humanity, her one true _epic_ love, something which Caroline will never not be testy about... And yet Elena just refuses to give up.

"So..." she says, changing the subject. "Are you and Damon…?"

Elena gives her a pointed look. "I know what you're thinking, and no."

When she thought Damon was dead, Elena asked Alaric, who came back from the dead still sporting some Original vamp powers, to compel away her feelings for him. After so much loss, she couldn't bear to lose him, too. Now Damon is back, she still can't remember all the moments they had together and Alaric is no longer a vampire, so he can’t undo the compulsion. Which - honestly, is that really such a bad thing?

It's the _perfect_ opportunity for Stefan to make a move and rekindle that old flame. Not that anyone’s asked Caroline’s opinion, of course. Stefan is actually too much of a gentleman for his own good, refusing to use Elena's forgetfulness to take advantage. Caroline gently reminded him that Damon did not grant him the same courtesy when the situation was somewhat reversed. He took every bit of leverage he could when Stefan was absent to get closer to Elena and never looked back.

It's _obvious_ Elena's feelings are still there, she just... Can't access them. You can see it on her face when she looks at Damon. This spark that comes to life, like a word dancing on the tip of her tongue, only to disappear a second later. Caroline thinks she's not missing out on anything, not remembering the _worst mistake of her life_ , but what does she know?

For his part, Damon has pledged to give her space, but he's also doing his best to help jog her memories back, and the two of them have been working tirelessly towards finding the Ascendant to free Bonnie, which Caroline will admit is actually kind of... Nice. By Damon's standards, anyway. After spending months trapped with her in 1994, he apparently now _likes_ Bonnie. Caroline is so desperate to get her friend back that she's even willing to wave the white flag to Damon for the time being.

"That's not what I was going to say," she replies to Elena, only partially lying. It’s exactly what she was going to say, but then she was also going to add something else. "I think it's nice he's there for you. He’s a jerk and a half, but he’s always been there for you when it mattered. For better and for worse. It’s nice that he’s so dedicated to getting Bonnie back."

"Is this really about Damon?" Elena asks, eyes slitted at her. Caroline faces away. "Care... Did you call him?"

"Why? He can't answer a text message, why would he answer a phone call?"

"I don't wanna say it, but -"

"I know, alright? You don't have to say anything."

"This is important, Care. It's your mom."

"What would I even say to him?" she retorts, heat rising once more. Her sudden bout of temper has nothing to do with Elena, though; it's just how she gets whenever someone mentions Klaus these days. "I don't know what's wrong with her. It could be nothing, just a little dizziness."

"So? You're worried about her, so it matters either way." Caroline presses her lips tightly together, crossing her arms stubbornly. "Right. Well. Why don't you call Elijah, then?"

"Elijah cares too much," she grumbles moodily.

"So you won't call Klaus because you're afraid he won't care, and you won't call Elijah because he will? That makes no sense. Why is that a bad thing?"

"Sometimes, it is."

"Why do I always get the feeling there's something about this whole situation that you're not telling me? Something about Elijah. You’re weirdly vague when it comes to him."

“I’m not vague. I told you everything there was to tell.”

“Not _everything_ …” Elena gives her a prodding look, making Caroline suddenly glad she hasn't fed today; there's not enough blood in her to go up to her cheeks. "Tell me you didn't get yourself into a love triangle with two brothers."

"Oh my God!" Caroline exclaims, disguising the embarrassment with outrage. Because, if she's to be completely honest... It was close enough. In an unrequited way, sure, but it certainly caused all sorts of trouble.

By now, Elena's in on pretty much everything that happened in New Orleans, even the Klaus drama from start to finish, in as much detail as Caroline thought wise to share. The part where Elijah developed certain _complicated_ feelings was deliberately left out.

So what if Caroline's a little bit hypocritical? Who isn't? She's been a lot less judgy on the whole Elena-Stefan-Damon thing since she came back - outwardly, at least; her harsh opinions and gagging sounds have been firmly kept to herself. After all the years she spent giving Elena a hard time over her entanglement with the Salvatore brothers, getting caught in her own web of unrequited convoluted relationships made Caroline rethink her previous position. It's a lot more complex than she ever thought, even if she never had feelings for Elijah. The mere fact she _liked_ him as a friend and didn't want to hurt him made the whole thing messy. She'd just... rather not admit it out loud, if she can avoid it.

Elena's lips curl into a cheeky little smile. "I have to say, if you learned nothing from me -"

" _Nothing_ happened, all right? There was no love triangle with brothers. Jesus."

"Also, if you got into a love triangle with those two and you picked _Klaus_ , I'm gonna have to judge you."

"Says the person who picked _Damon_ ," Caroline counters, narrowing her eyes at her friend.

"Case in point. Look where that got me. Not exactly happily ever after, was it? And it's all gone now."

Caroline stammers. "I'm sorry, Elena. I didn't mean to -"

"It's fine, Caroline, I'm joking. Well... Not really. But you get what I mean."

Silence spools between them for a moment before Caroline blurts out, "You had a crush on Elijah, didn't you?"

Elena gives her a scandalized look, gaping in outrage. "What?!"

"You so did!" Caroline is almost bouncing on her seat now. "You were always _Elijah this, Elijah that_. He was a skeevy Original and you _trusted_ him. I remember how upset you were because Esther was gonna kill all of them. You wanted to save Elijah."

"Because he saved my life!" Elena protests. "It was only _fair_."

"You know, I won't judge you," Caroline shrugs.

"You don’t have to, because I never crushed on Elijah."

"I'm just saying, there's no shame in that."

"As opposed to having a crush on Klaus?"

"Is that supposed to be a jab? I had a baby with the guy, I’m kind over it."

Elena stays quiet for a moment. "In my defense, Elijah was a thousand years-old Original vampire and he was super cool, alright?"

"Oh my God, _I knew it_!" A triumphant smile breaks onto Caroline’s face. "You are _so_ transparent, Elena Gilbert!"

"It was totally platonic," Elena remarks solemnly, but the smile on her face is genuine. "He was _way_ too old for me."

"Like I said, no judgement. Elijah _is_ super cool. _And_ , if you must know, he's ripped."

"And how do you know that, huh?" Elena teases, squinting at Caroline.

"I lived with the guy. I wasn't lusting, ok? He's like a brother to me."

"You never sang praise to Klaus' _attributes_."

"Do you _want_ to hear about Klaus' attributes? Cause I can sing a freaking anthem, if you want to hear it."

Elena makes a face. "Point taken." There's a pause. "So Elijah is ripped."

"Yup."

Elena hums appreciatively. "Now there's some food for thought."

Caroline laughs. She turns to Elena with nothing but warmth in her eyes. Somewhere during that brief convo, the panic threatening to overwhelm her dimmed into a footnote. Suddenly she feels like she can breathe a little bit again. "Thank you."

"For what?"

She takes Elena’s hand in hers, gives her a squeeze. "For being here."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**_Ten days later_ **

A less perceptive outsider might look at the Mikaelson compound, at the heart of the French Quarter, and think that peace has finally descended upon the family's otherwise chaotic home.

Where there was a cacophony of crashes and screaming and grunting, now quietness reigns undisturbed. Instead of the constant influx of werewolves and vampires coming and going, always in a rush, always in tension, now it's just Freya, in and out on her regular daily activities, and Elijah, a couple of times a week. The deep crimson that painted walls and floors alike so many times over the last almost two years have been replaced by yellow and white and pink, with perfume. Freya likes flowers, always gets them fresh, spreads them around the house to temper some of the rough, rustic and brutally masculine atmosphere of the place.

There is no chilling, haunted sounds, no sheets covering the furniture, no immediate threats hovering above their roof. The dark clouds, heavy with grief and disappointment, have all dissipated. Now it's all just... Silence.

A closer inspection, however, by a more attentive and shrewder mind, will reveal that this brand of silence actually speaks volumes.

The once formidable Mikaelson residence no longer feels like a family home. It's just a concrete carcass. A real estate masterpiece that looms over Royal Street, its once lively pulse stilled to a stop. It's sad and cold. A place where Freya goes to sleep and where Niklaus barely existed, more a ghost than he'd ever been, before finally vanishing in a mist. He'd always been rather good at disappearing, his brother, even inside his own house. Better yet inside his own head. That thick skull of his, where no good sense or reason can penetrate, was made denser still since Caroline left. She was the drill that could pierce through his stubbornness, punch sanity into his tempestuous mind. Without her, he became adrift. Didn’t even thrash his studio or smash bottles against the walls in fierce indignation as he used to before - which, in hindsight, should’ve been a sign that something different was cooking up. Angry though he was at all times, dramatic outbursts were rarely seen. Niklaus was at war with himself, and this time he decided to make his disappearing act slightly more literal.

Elijah doesn’t know what to make of it. On the one hand, it’s extremely tactless and inconsiderate of him to do this, especially to Caroline, who, despite all manner of hard feelings, had been diligently sending him updates on their daughter, practically begging him to get involved. On the other, however… He cannot say he’s sorry for his brother.

It's a tale as old as they are themselves: you reap what you sow. Niklaus dealt heartbreak and pain as he doled out his punishments to everyone around him. Loneliness and anguish are what he should get in return. And it became so suffocating and constricting that he suddenly couldn’t even fathom to stay home anymore, haunted by the absence of the family he once had. He deserved nothing less.

What makes Elijah particularly unsympathetic to his cause is the distinct lack of humility shown by him. Weeks after Caroline took off with his child and he was yet to find it in him to repent. Would rather leave than utter a simple apology or try and make amends. Not that Elijah ever expected to get any heartfelt explanations from him, neither did Rebekah. But that he wouldn't even offer such consideration to Caroline is astounding. It's not even like she was making it hard for him; she sent him messages, videos, photos. Clearly there was an opening, a foundation on which to build upon. Yet Niklaus remained static, withering in his own misery, pouting like a sour child, refusing to take the first step out of sheer pride. And then he was gone in the dark.

It’s not hard to read his delusional reasoning. He thinks he's been wronged, betrayed. That they all assembled against him through no fault of his own. And because he regrets nothing, he will neither try to amend what he doesn't perceive as mistakes, nor will he apologize. Not even to the woman he so clearly misses.

Niklaus will be his own undoing.

Because of Freya, and especially since his brother made himself scarce, Elijah stops by every couple of days every week to have a meal with his sister. She's still adapting to life in the 21st century, in need of some guidance, but she's a rather quick learner. And an adventurous one, as it turns out. Freya is making full use of her youth and free time to indulge in all the things she’d been denied before. Parties. Alcohol. Lovers - plural. A plethora of them. Her appetite puts the rest of the family to shame.

It's... Refreshing, to be honest, if a little awkward. Elijah more than once showed up to have brunch with her only to end up running into a stranger exiting her room in the morning. They have since switched to lunches, just to be on the safe side. It’s good that at least one of them is trying to live and enjoy themselves, rather than simply survive.

Niklaus was mightily annoyed by it, of course, never missing a chance to scare Freya's suitors away by flashing his golden eyes at them. In the selfish vastness of Niklaus’ head, if he’s miserable, then so must everyone else be. It didn’t vex her in the least; so far, she's met no one she'd like to see a second time, anyway.

He rarely ever joined them for their family meals before he left. Not that Elijah cared; he preferred it when Niklaus made himself unnoticed. Being in his presence was still challenging to Elijah's spited sensibilities. It was hard to look at his brother and not think of Gia. Harder still to look at that huge dining table, remember how full it was mere three months before, and see how many empty seats they now have. And anyway, he'd rather have a more pleasant time with Freya than sit through Niklaus' scowls.

While Klaus drowns in his own sense of righteousness, Caroline and their daughter navigate some rather hazardous waters in Virginia. She's assured Elijah that he has nothing to worry about and that she's keeping herself at the margins of danger for the sake of her child, but things are not as placid as one would've hoped for. Ever magnets to dangers far greater than themselves, her friends seem to have become entangled in a kerfuffle with the famed and reclusive Gemini Coven. Elijah's heard enough about the inner workings of that coven to know there’s plenty of cause for concern.

"I'm sticking to trying to break the Travelers' spell on the town and seeing if there's a way to help Bonnie, but that's all," Caroline assured him.

"And everyone is in agreement with your boundaries? They don't come knocking on your door, begging you to lend a helping hand whenever things get out of control?"

"I know it's hard for you to envision it, Elijah, because your idea of a _friend_ is someone who has previously tried to kill you and survived long enough to only passive-aggressively not liking you, but my friends respect the fact that I have a child now. They would never want Eve to get caught up in that. So yes, they leave me alone, mostly, and I offer whatever help I can, whichever way I can, as long as I get to come home to my daughter at the end of the day. Wild, I know."

After two years in New Orleans, he can see how that would seem mild to her. Far from offering any reassurance, but Elijah has no reason to doubt Caroline. Moreover, he knows she would never be reckless around her child. Still, he anxiously waits for her phone calls or messages, just to make sure everything is still fine and she's in no need for reinforcements. Both he and Freya would be there in a blink if she says the word. He’d like to think that Niklaus would, too, despite his feigned disregard, but now that no one has any idea where he’s retired to or what kind of self-destructive unlawfulness he’s engaging with, it’s hard to tell. Not that having Originals involved has ever simplified matters, but they _are_ incredibly lethal weapons. Sometimes that's all it takes to sort out a dispute.

He's just thinking that it's been a while since he last heard from her when his phone rings, just as he's crossing the courtyard towards the front gate to go back to his loft in Algiers after lunch with Freya.

"I was wondering when I'd hear from you,” he says as he takes the call.

"Hey," she replies with none of the mirth that's so characteristic to her.

A deep crease appears between his brows. He stops walking. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, just... It's been... A little busy lately."

He allows for the silence to spool out for a bit longer, maybe give her time to elaborate. Concern pricks at him when she doesn't. "How is Eve?"

"She's good. Great, actually. Messing with the laundry I was folding." There's a hesitating pause, and then Caroline continues, "Uhm... I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"What do you know about... cancer?"

"Can't say it's something I've ever concerned myself with."

"Ok, let me rephrase that. What do you know about vampire blood curing diseases _such as_ cancer?"

Now it's Elijah's turn to pause. "I believe it doesn't," he speaks slowly. "There are limits to the magic of our blood, it can't cure everything. Certain diseases are too disruptive, they affect the human organism in ways that not even magic can reverse it."

"Do you _believe_ that, or do you _know_ that?"

"I've never personally tried to heal any cancer patients, but from my experience, it would be no use. Similar to Kieran's stroke."

"Yeah, but Kieran's stroke wasn't natural," Caroline counters with too much intent. "It was caused by magic. It's... different."

"May I ask the reason for your sudden inquiry?"

"Someone I know has cancer," she says lowly. "A stage four glioblastoma with metastasis to the spine."

"Who?" Caroline stays quiet. "Caroline, who?"

"My mom." It comes out blurted, a little too intense, too strained, as though she had to force her voice out. Even through the phone, Elijah can sense how much effort it took, how she braced herself for the impact of having it out in the world. Caroline is in pain. "My mom is dying of cancer and modern science says there's nothing they can do. I just... Can't believe that magic can't either. We bring someone back from the dead but we can't cure cancer? That's ridiculous."

It hits Elijah like a punch to the guts. He shuts his eyes against the twinge in his chest.

"We can bring magical beings back from the dead. Humans... They're more fragile. In every aspect," he offers as gently as he possibly can, all the while hating himself for doing it. "Caroline, I'm so sorry."

There's a low sniff on the other side. Elijah's jaw sets, his grip around his phone tightening until he thinks it might break.

"Yeah," Caroline speaks after a moment. "That's exactly what I heard from every doctor I've spoken to for the past ten days. Listen, I have to go, Elijah. I have to go see my mom at the hospital."

"Caroline -"

"I'll talk to you later, ok? Don’t worry, everything’s under control. Thanks for the help."

Caroline doesn't even give him a chance to say goodbye.

In one thousand years, Elijah's never heard of vampire blood curing diseases such as cancer. If that was possible, the world would be rid of it by now. Suddenly, however, he finds himself desperate to believe he's simply missed out on some crucial bit of development. Somewhere, somehow, someone has figured out how to do it, he just needs to find it.

As quick as it comes, though, the hope is pushed down and away, the idea feeble even to his own mind. It's cruel wishful thinking, he knows.

To think that, right now, Caroline is in Whitmore with her child while her mother lies in a hospital bed with a death sentence...

Elijah reins in the sudden desire to send his phone flying across the courtyard and, in a split-second, makes a decision. Instead of unleashing all of his frustrations on the portent of terrible news, he searches for a contact he hadn't called in months.

As expected, it goes straight to voicemail.

"I'm sorry to disturb your Caribbean getaway, or wherever it is that you are now being a complete dissonant, abject creature, Niklaus, but I have some unfortunate news to share. Elizabeth Forbes has terminal cancer and Caroline is challenging the long-lasting theory that vampire blood cannot cure everything. We both know how that's going to end. Needless to say, she does not sound like she's doing all too well."

He pauses, scrubs a hand across his face, the muscles on his jaw going tight. If he were face to face with his brother right now, Elijah doesn't know that he wouldn't make him swallow this phone.

"I think this would be a fantastic time for you to scrape your ridiculous pride and go to her. If anything, then to offer her assistance with your daughter while she takes care of her mother. I'm sure she would've called you directly if you hadn't made yourself completely absent from their lives. Regardless, they need you. You have a responsibility to this woman, Niklaus. She's the mother of your child and she's about to lose the only family she has."

The thrum of reproach in Elijah's voice is quite strong, and he's not trying at all to disguise it. In fact, he sincerely hopes Niklaus will pick up on all the disgusted inflections of his tenor. Elijah's far past cutting him slacks or being mindful of his feelings.

"For her sake more than yours, I hope you’ll do the right thing," he adds after a brief but loaded silence. 

Elijah puts his phone down and walks back inside to tell Freya that he'll be out of town for a while.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline plasters a smile on her face as she enters her mother's hospital room, doing her best to ignore Damon's presence.

It's hell enough that an apparent harmless dizziness has turned out to be some inoperable cancer, but having to go through this with Damon's ghoulish presence following them like a shadow is just torture. She'll never understand how her sweet, good, _precious_ mother ever became BFFs with that dirtbag. Unfortunately, it happened, and Caroline doesn't want to stress Liz out any more than strictly necessary. She's suffering enough as it is, doesn't need to have her daughter and her stupid choice for a best friend bickering around her all the time.

Damon sure makes an effort to annoy the grace out of her, but Caroline is determined to kill that bastard with kindness - or as much kindness as is humanly possible to muster, anyway. Emphasis on _kill_. It would be _great_ if he actually dropped dead.

At least he's being useful, keeping Liz distracted and occupied while Caroline chases after doctors for second, third, fourth opinions and test results like a hitman, and then goes home to check on Eve, who's been spending a lot more time with babysitters than she would've liked. Hospitals are no place for children her age, and Eve is an angel of a baby, but she still demands a lot of attention. Caroline does her best to split her time and go wherever she's needed most, but even for a vampire, it can be a lot. Damon is better than leaving her mother alone, she guesses. Some people think so, anyway.

"Bad news is, the employee kitchen didn't have a juicer," she announces. "Good news is, now they do." Caroline grins widely, handing a large cup of green smoothie to her mom. A special recipe she got off a respected health blogger, condoned by doctors and researchers.

"What is this?" Liz asks, wrinkling her nose.

"Kale smoothie. It's good for DNA cell repair and for slowing cancer," she explains. "Oh, are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine, sweetie."

"There's another blanket here, I brought it yesterday." Caroline starts going through the drawers on the dresser next to her mother's bed, retrieving the _extra_ fluffy blanket she brought from home. The ones provided by the hospital are a disgrace.

"Are you trying to literally smother her?" Damon asks in that annoying sarcastic tone of his.

Caroline shoots him a glare but keeps her voice neutral. "I'm just trying to help. Since apparently modern medicine takes forever, I guess someone has to."

She throws the second blanket over her mother's legs and gets a stab of hurt in her chest at how small and gaunt Liz Forbes looks in that bed, under all those blankets. But if she lets herself get hung up on these things, like how fragile and sick her beautiful powerhouse of a mother suddenly is, she'll fall apart, so she doesn't.

"I don't understand why we can't skip all the guesswork and go straight for something that has a better chance,” she continues as she sits down next to her mom. "Like vampire blood."

Liz sighs. "We are not having this conversation again, sweetheart."

"Ok, then what do you wanna talk about? How the doctors can't operate? How chemo won't work? How radiation won't shrink the tumor? Damon, feel free to jump in with your support any time here."

"I think that would require you having my support, Caroline."

Her eyebrows snap together. "You don't think our blood will work either?"

"Either? Who else has already given you the obvious answer?"

"Doesn't matter. Why do _you_ think that?"

"For 170 odd years, I've never known an instance where our blood cured cancer. But hey, sheriff, if you want to be a guinea pig in an experimental study involving weird, unpredictable magic... Far be it from me to stop you."

Caroline's lips purse in distaste. The one time that idiot could actually be useful. It's been hard enough to get her mother to agree to the whole vampire blood theory thing, she doesn't even want to hear about it, thinks the chances of her ending up as a vampire are too great to risk it. Caroline has explained to her that she won't be turning, it'll be just to heal her, and that she's been doing serious research into proper ways to go about it, but Liz is having none of it.

"Look, sweetie," her mother says in a weak voice that breaks Caroline's heart every time, taking her hand. Liz was fine until the moment she wasn't. Once the tumor decided it had been dormant for long enough, her health fell apart, and the extremely aggressive medicine being shot into her veins seems to only make her worse. Sometimes Caroline thinks the treatment is killing Liz faster than the disease. Despite how tired and uncomfortable she is, the look in her mother's eyes is just as warm and affectionate as ever. Like Caroline’s the one in need of reassurance, not her. "For now, I would like to put my faith in science, which means going home on doctor's order, having a nice quiet day and waiting for more MRI results."

"See? Mommy knows best," Damon says, a smug lazy grin on his face that makes Caroline want to throw things at him. He stands up from the chair he'd been perched on. "If you'll excuse me, I have places I need to be." He nods towards Liz and then waltzes out of the room.

"I will _never_ understand," Caroline mutters once he's gone.

"I would think you of all people would," Liz notes, sipping from her smoothie and making a grimace.

"It's good for you, mom," Caroline says softly. "Why would I understand your inexplicable friendship with Mystic Falls' biggest douchebag of the past four generations?"

"Well, you had a baby with Klaus."

Caroline's mouth drops in feigned outrage, and then she narrows her eyes at Liz. "I thought we agreed you weren't going to tease me about that. It's enough that I have to put up with Damon's colorful commentary. And Stefan's. And Elena's. And Matt's. Not you, too. You are his child’s grandmother, you don’t get to mock me."

Her mother chuckles, her whole face brightening up all of a sudden. If making fun of her daughter's baby daddy puts a smile on her face, then she can do it all day long. "I'm not teasing, sweetie, I'm just saying."

"Yeah, right." Caroline clicks her tongue and crosses her arm over her chest. "Drink your smoothie, sheriff."

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You'd think that the five digits on their hospital bills would at the very least mean they get a high-end service. You'd be wrong. Medical care in the United States is a _sham_.

"What do you mean, the coffee machine is broken?" Caroline snaps as the doctor she stopped in the corridor to inquire on why in hell's name there would be an _Out of Service_ sign hanging on the only coffee machine on the entire oncology floor. Like that isn't an essential item for delicate cancer patients and their very stressed out - and _famished_ , did she mention that? - relatives.

"Exactly that. The coffee machine is broken, ergo, not working, ergo, the sign," the woman chants flatly, giving her such an obvious stink eye Caroline wants to flash some golden eyes at her just to watch her squirm.

"Well, then fix it," she demands, tone harsh and clipped.

The woman scoffs. "Do I look like I work in maintenance?"

Caroline's blood boils. "Do you have _any_ idea what kind of stress your patients and their loved ones are under in a place like this? People are _sick_ , they're _dying_ , and the smallest bit of comfort this hospital can offer is a working coffee machine. Do you know what happens when a sad, sleep-deprived person gets angry?"

"I'm gonna call securi -"

"You're not going to call security," Caroline grits out, holding the woman's gaze. Her posture slackens, her haughty expression smoothing into blankness. "You're gonna stay quiet and you're going to listen, because somebody has to. What kind of respectable hospital doesn't have a working coffee machine? That shows a complete disregard not only to me, but to my _sick mother_. You're already not being of much help with fixing her, now you're also going to deny her the simple pleasure of a decaf latte while she's bedridden?"

“It’s hardly that poor woman’s fault.”

Caroline whips around at the sound of the familiar deep tenor and finds Elijah standing a few feet behind her, looking sleek in a dark grey suit, his hair combed back, a warm and affectionate half-smile gracing his handsome features.

Caroline stays frozen in her spot, blinking slowly at him, half-expecting Elijah to melt into a cloud like a mirage, just her imagination conjuring up some figure she knows would deeply reproach her behavior. He cranes his head to catch the doctor's eyes, nodding towards her. "You can go now. Forget what you just heard."

The doctor blinks at Caroline, offers her a short, confused smile and then turns on her heels.

"If you're going to compel them, it's always more useful to give a direct order than just to make them listen."

Something clicks inside of Caroline. In a flash, she's flinging herself at Elijah, pulling him into a tight hug and immediately finding herself embraced back.

She has missed Elijah _so. freaking. much._

"What are you doing here?" she asks as she pulls away.

"What do you think?" He plants a kiss on her cheek. "How are you?"

Caroline makes a dejected face. "I'm sorry. Did I freak you out with that call? I didn't mean to freak you out."

"That's not why I came. How's your mother?" Caroline looks away from the compassion in his eyes, down, giving a light shrug. "I'm sorry, Caroline."

"Yeah. Me, too." She lets out a tired sigh, pulling her hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry about that _scene_ you just witnessed. I'm a little stressed out."

"You don't have to apologize."

"I'm _really_ glad to see you, though," she says with a smile. "I can't believe you're here."

A tender grin pulls at Elijah's lips again.

"Well, come on, then!" Caroline takes his hand and drags him with her. "You have to meet my mom."

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"Mom?" Caroline calls slowly, poking her head in the door, checking that her mother hasn't fallen asleep. The medicine she's taking is so abrasive it steals away the little energy she has.

Liz lifts her head from the pillows. "Did you get your coffee?"

"No. The coffee machine is still broken."

"Shoot. That's -"

"Outrageous, I know. And I've made myself heard."

Liz gives her a look. "Please, tell me you didn't harass anyone, Caroline."

"I just gave them an honest opinion on the quality of the service they're providing here. But forget about the coffee." A smile finally breaks onto her face. "I found something much better lurking in the corridor."

The look of consternation bordering on panic on Elijah's face when Caroline pulls him into the room almost has her cracking up. She has never seen the great Elijah Mikaelson so out of sorts with embarrassment. Didn't even think he possessed that range of emotion.

Her mother, on the other hand, seems suddenly tense. She sits up straighter, her eyes widening in shock. After almost two years in New Orleans, Caroline forgets that Mikaelsons still cause a certain reaction around Mystic Falls.

Elijah rolls his shoulders, a strained little grin dancing on the corner of his lips. "Hello, Mrs. Forbes," he says.

"Elijah Mikaelson," her mom replies with a strained politeness. "It's been a long time."

Caroline frowns, eyes snapping from him to her. "Wait, what? You two know each other?"

Elijah averts her questioning gaze. "To my great shame, I must confess that, when I first arrived in Mystic Falls, I attended a couple of Founders' events pretending to be a historian, researching the town's folklore. I believe I was introduced to your mother at a social gathering at the Town Hall."

"And then you came to the house, asking for some documents," Liz adds, a knowing smile on her face.

Caroline's jaw drops. "You never told me that! None of you did."

"It didn't come up," Elijah offers as an excuse.

Caroline turns to him with a sharp look. "You heard me babbling about my mother a gazillion times and _it never came up_?"

"I'm not exactly proud of the part I played in that particular instance. I was... Rather obstinate in my pursuit."

"Was that because of the moonstone?"

"It was, indeed."

Caroline tsks, shaking her head reproachfully at him. "You think you know someone..."

Elijah has the decency to seem apologetic. "Circumstances now are remarkably different."

"I should hope so," Caroline retorts.

"Yes. The man who came into my house pretending to be interested in old town's records is now my granddaughter's uncle. In a very strange turn of events, I guess that makes us family," Liz says, letting out a little disbelieved laugh, as though the idea is only now sinking in. It's one thing to have Caroline tell her things; it's a completely different one to stare at an Original's face and realize they now share blood relations. "The world does turn."

"Are there any more secret stories I should know about?" Caroline inquires light-heartedly.

"Not that I can recall," Liz says, arching her eyebrows at Elijah.

"I did not try to compel you, Mrs. Forbes."

"Just making sure."

"I would say regrettably, we didn't interact that many times back in the day, but I'm afraid that was probably for the best."

Caroline is about to cut in when her phone goes off. "Oh. It's the babysitter. Sorry, I have to take that," she says, stepping out of the room.

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If the atmosphere felt awkward with Caroline in the room, as soon as she steps out the perception grows tenfold. Elijah feels terribly inadequate, a sensation that fits him like a roughly cut suit: uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

When he turns back to Elizabeth Forbes, she no longer seems anxious or uneasy; instead, she assesses Elijah with a probing look, weighing him out. The woman didn't get promoted to sheriff for nothing, he tells himself. He recalls the story he heard from Niklaus, of how she gave him a steely look that seemed to slice right through his soul before she allowed him into their home to heal Caroline. Elijah imagines it was something similar to this.

He's hardly intimidated by attitudes of this caliber, especially when it comes from humans, but this is no ordinary person; it's Caroline's mother. He feels indebted to her. They spirited her daughter away, compelled the woman to not bother chasing after and couldn't even keep her safe. They have failed her, as they have failed her daughter and granddaughter, he and Niklaus equally. And on top of everything, they seem to have robbed Liz of precious time she could've spent with her family. Elijah simply does not know how to go about atoning for those mistakes. If there's even a way that he can.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better," he says, shuffling slightly closer, hands in his pockets.

"Thank you," Liz replies. "Did Caroline ask you to come?"

"No, she didn't. I decided to come on my own."

"You didn't have to."

"I wish the circumstances of my visit were less dismal, but believe me when I say I would've come sooner or later. And seeing as the situation is... Complicated... It wasn't much of a choice. I could never not be here."

The smile on the sheriff's face grows, her whole expression softening. "My daughter speaks very highly of you. She says you're a good man, and a great friend to her."

"As I'm sure you know, Caroline has the ability to see goodness even in the darkest of hearts. Oftentimes, she provokes it herself. I'm not entirely sure I agree on being a good man, but I am a friend to her. Always."

Her smile tilts upwards just a tiny bit more. "Thank you. For taking care of her in New Orleans. And for being here now. She is so concerned, trying to embrace the world at once, putting so much responsibility on her own shoulders... I know it will mean a lot to her that you came all the way here."

Elijah feels a sharp twinge of guilt. "Anything for Caroline."

As if on cue, she stomps back into the room, visibly more distressed than she was when she left. " _God_ , people are seriously trying to see me blow up today," she grunts moodily.

"Is everything all right?" Elijah asks.

"Natalie has a _date_ ," she derides. "So she can't watch Eve tonight. I have to go home and see if I can find someone else."

"Honey, you don't have to stay," Liz comforts her daughter. "The doctors said I'll be getting discharged later this afternoon anyway."

"Exactly. Someone needs to be here to chase after them and make sure they won't just _forget_ to come back with the test results and your discharge papers, as they seem to have a _habit_ of doing. Besides, I have to take you home." Before her mother can object, she puts a palm out. "Not negotiable, mom."

"I'll stay with Eve," Elijah offers.

Caroline turns to him, blinking slowly, like she hadn't considered the idea. "You will?"

"Of course. I'm obviously looking forward to seeing my niece as well."

"Seriously? That would be amazing, Elijah."

"You know it's always been a pleasure for me to be with her. I haven't seen her in three months."

She lets out a relieved breath, her shoulders sagging like a mountain has been suddenly removed. As he imagined, and as stated by her mother, she's obviously straining herself to her limits to try and take control over the situation, and all on her own. Between her mother being sick, in and out of the hospital, and a one-year-old who requires constant vigilance, it's a wonder she hasn't driven herself insane yet. Then again, it is Caroline. If anyone can do this, it's her.

It just makes Elijah all the testier at his brother's selfishness. It obviously took her a while to inform them of her mother's condition, but now that they've become aware of it, there is no excuse. He should be here, with his daughter, comforting the woman he claims to love in a most strenuous time, offering her a much-needed reprieve knowing her child is being cared for by her father rather than being looked after by strangers.

"Sheriff," he turns back to Liz. He offers her a hand, and when she gives hers, he takes it up to his lips, giving it a kiss. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance again. I will be seeing you later, I hope?"

She seems suddenly embarrassed. "Thank you for coming, Elijah. Give Evie a kiss for me."

"I shall."

He motions for Caroline to lead the way and she mouths to her mom that she'll be right back before she walks with him to the hospital entrance.

"Thank you for doing this," she says. "You just arrived. I don't want to -"

"Caroline," he cuts her off with a smile. "It's no burden."

She sighs. "Thanks anyway. I take it you know where my house is, then?"

"I thought you were staying in Whitmore."

"I was. But apparently the curse has been lifted."

Elijah frowns. "Oh?"

"I don't know the details, I've been... Busy," she gives him a pointed look as they walk. "It was the psycho guy, Kai. Not sure how or why, just that he did it and we can all go back now. I've been there already, so it's safe. My mom doesn't know it yet, she's been at the hospital for the past two days, so it'll be a surprise when she gets out. I sent some people to clean the house and get everything in order, no one had been there since she fell ill the first time. Had to move my stuff there, too, so... It was annoying, but I think I have it sorted. Maybe back at her own house, sleeping in her own bed, she'll feel better."

"That's very thoughtful of you, but it seems to me like that requires a great deal of work for someone who's been diligently by her mother's side at the hospital whilst also taking care of an infant."

Caroline stops walking and he stops with her. Now that she's not in her mother's presence anymore, it strikes him how tired she looks.

"It hasn't been a picnic," she admits. "But I'm handling it."

"I have no doubt that you are. But you don't have to. I'm here, for whatever you need."

She quirks a small smile, a little sad, a little weary, and then gives his arm a squeeze. "Thank you," she says. "Natalie is at the house with Eve. Since you've already been there, I guess that means you don't have to be invited in," she says. Her eyes are accusing, but her smile is tender.

His lips curl into a lopsided grin. "I suppose not."

"Good. I'll call Natalie and let her know you're on your way. I'll be there as soon as the doctors sign mom's discharge papers."

"All right. I'll see you tonight, then."

"Elijah," she calls when he turns to leave. "I'm really happy to see you."

"It’s really good to see you, too,” he says earnestly. “Now concentrate on getting your mother well and home. I will take care of Eve."

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It's past 10 when Elijah hears the car pulling up in the driveway.

He puts the book he'd been reading down, a copy of The Idiot que found on the bookshelf - Liz Forbes has a small but rather formidable collection, even though he found a few romance paperbacks tucked between Austens and Dickens and Shakespeares. He'd been expecting Caroline home before dinner time, even cooked some pasta Bolognese with items he found in the well-stocked pantry and fridge - no doubt Caroline's careful work as well - in case they were hungry.

When Caroline walks in, alone, nearly dragging her feet, he knows something's wrong even before her dejected, "Hey."

"Hi," he replies. "Where's the sheriff?"

Caroline lets out a deep, weary sigh before she slumps down on an armchair. "She didn't get discharged. They decided to keep her in for observation."

"Something wrong?"

"Besides everything?" she smiles sadly. "She was having some headaches."

She speaks lightly, like it was a minor thing, but Elijah sees it written on the ridges and the shadows on her face how ridden with concern she truly is. Headaches on a patient with an inoperable brain tumor can't be anything good. "I'm sorry.”

"Yeah, well... I'll have to go back to the hospital, can't leave her there alone. If you don't want to spend the night -"

"Caroline. Please," he says, softly.

She twists her lips into something she probably intended as a smile. "Thank you. Is Eve...?"

"Asleep."

She puffs out, cursing under her breath. "I've been in and out of the hospital all the time for the last two weeks. I make an effort to be home at least to tuck her in or feed her before bedtime, but lately... I keep missing it."

Her clear disappointment in herself is heartbreaking. "Don't pressure yourself so much," he offers gently, trying his best not to sound as though he's criticizing her. Caroline is driven, tirelessly so, and that sometimes means she demands from herself more than she would from anyone else. It’s unfair and cruel. "You may be a near hybrid, but you're still only one."

"Can't be a good mother and a good daughter at the same time, apparently."

"You know that's not true."

She waves a hand in front of her face as though trying to push away the thought. "How are you? I didn't even ask."

"I'm fine."

She narrows her eyes just a smidge, doubtful. "Yeah?"

Elijah grins. "Camille and Freya send their regards."

"You've been talking to Cami?"

"Occasionally."

"Rousseau's?"

"I'm afraid she's taken Rebekah's request a bit too seriously."

Caroline chuckles, some of those hard lines smoothing out. "Well, I'm glad. Are you still in Algiers, then?"

"Yes."

The line of her lips turns a little contrite, the light in her eyes a little sad. Elijah knows what she's thinking even before she voices it out. "Have you heard from him?"

For a split-second, he considers lying to her, shielding Caroline from yet another heartbreak by being mercifully deceptive. But the woman who's been working so hard just to keep her world from falling apart while Niklaus does nothing but make things worse, does not deserve to be coated with lies. Lying won’t make anything better; Elijah doubts anything but his brother’s physical presence would at this moment. She deserves the truth.

"No," he replies. "I called, he didn’t answer. I left him a message."

She nods her head once, going silent for a moment. "I sent him a text, after I talked to you. I wasn't going to, have kind of stopped reaching out except for a few updates on Eve, but... I figured, since the news were out anyway... He obviously didn't write back." Her mouth pulls into a wan grin that breaks as quickly as it comes. "I feel so stupid for being here wondering how he’s doing."

"That’s actually an easy question to answer. He is as much of an imbecile as he's ever been, no doubt. Pitifully depressed."

She scoffs. "Who is he sleeping with, then?" Elijah frowns. "Last time you said that, he was banging Genevieve."

Elijah goes quiet. Niklaus' disappearance suggests nothing good, and the fact he's completely alienated himself from the family implies to Elijah he's gone in one of his benders. If all he's doing is having meaningless sex it'll be a light one. So long as he doesn't end up impregnating anyone else, of course.

"Whatever,” Caroline says after a moment, springing up to her feet. “I have more important things to worry about than Klaus. I need a shower and then I have to get back. I don’t want her to be alone for long. Are you sure you're ok spending the night?"

"How many times must I answer that for you to believe me?" he asks with a grin.

She rolls her eyes at him. "Well, take whatever room you want. Mine is the one at the end of the hall, if you prefer, but I'm sure you've seen the big bed in the guest bedroom where the crib is. It's yours. The whole house is. Mi casa, su casa."

"I'm quite comfortable, thank you," he says, lifting the book to show her. "Fantastic collection."

"Yeah..." Her eyes become distant. "Mom always loved reading, and then life and work got in the way. I think she hasn't read many of those yet."

Caroline doesn't have to finish for Elijah to feel her pain.

_And she might not have the time anymore._

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Elijah stops at the top of the stairs when he hears Caroline’s car outside. She texted him about an hour ago to let him know her mother had finally been discharged and they'd be heading home soon, so Elijah figured it was a good time to give Eve a bath and put her in a pretty dress to see her grandmother for the first time in three days. When he hears the key turning in the front door, however, he takes a step back, allowing them to make themselves comfortable again before having an outsider barging into their familial privacy.

"Oh my God," Sheriff Forbes exclaims, smiling from ear to ear, even though her eyes still have that sunken quality. "I can't believe we're finally home!"

Caroline smiles back at her mother, her face suddenly lit up as the deep creases that had been lining her forehead for likely weeks now smooth into earnest contentment. Elijah was yet to see such a genuine smile on her face, one that actually registers in her eyes.

There's such an ease between the two of them, a lightness hanging in the air, made more potent by the soft sunlight streaming in through the large living room windows. Mother and daughter look invigorated here, in the comfort of their home. Such a distance away from the colorless figures at the hospital.

He almost doesn't want to intrude their moment, afraid to unbalance their peace, but there's someone getting antsy in his arms, hearing the sound of her mother's voice.

"Good morning," he greets as he finally makes it down the stairs. "Welcome home."

Elijah realizes Elizabeth and Caroline look more alike than he'd first noticed when both women whirl around to him with matching smiles, all eyes falling instantly on Eve.

"Oh, come to mommy! I missed you so much!" Caroline gushes, putting her hands out for her daughter. Eve immediately leans forward, ready to exchange arms. Caroline pulls her into a tight hug, smacking a loud kiss on her child's cheek. "How was she?"

"As delightful as ever." Elijah then turns to her mother. "Mrs. Forbes. Glad to see you're feeling better."

"It's Liz," she corrects him gently. “And thank you. I’m much better.”

"Are you ok? Did you get any sleep?" Caroline asks him.

"Yes," he lies. No need to rattle her over something as trivial as that. He's well rested enough, well fed, and sleep is not even close to a necessity. He spent a good night with a glass of a decent Bordeaux he found - and intends to replace, of course, with an improved version - and a collection of the bard's work. He even dared to take a photo of Eve's sleeping form and send it to her rascal of a father. Unsurprisingly, he hasn't replied. Something else Caroline doesn't need to know. "I had a rather pleasant night in your guest room."

"Good!" Caroline smiles, touching his arm warmly as she walks past him to head upstairs.

Liz gives him a knowing look, the soft grin on her face showing appreciation for his kind lie.

While the elation in Liz's eyes is striking in comparison to the disheartenment he witnessed at the hospital, from up close she's still miles away from the woman he met all those years ago. He can see the strain of her ordeal in the corner of her lips, the tired sag of her shoulders. This disease is as merciless as any enemy Elijah's faced, draining the life out of someone as strong as Elizabeth Forbes. He can't even begin to imagine what it must be like for Caroline to bear witness as her mother disappears little by little, shrinking into herself right before her eyes.

"What is it? Never seen anyone with stage four cancer before?" Liz questions. Elijah dips his head, bashfully gazing away.

"Can't say that I have," he admits quietly. "In my experience, real life never really had much of a chance to catch up. I've always been mostly surrounded by supernatural creatures. Humans... They tend to be more fragile."

"Yes, well. Even when you’ve lived for a thousand years, I guess there’s still a first time for everything.”

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to offend."

"You haven't."

"So I found my box set of Friends," Caroline says as she joins them once more, putting the DVDs in her mother's hands. "If you start watching now, I'll be back before Monica and Chandler’s wedding. Elijah, you know how to laugh, right?"

"Opinions vary," he says, a light crease appearing between his brows. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Every minute counts, so I'm gonna go get a second opinion from one of the world's leading experts in grade IV glioblastoma." Liz tilts her head to the side, making a pleading face at her daughter. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I googled."

"And where is the internet sending you?" Liz asks.

"Duke."

"You know, I have a good friend who lives nearby," Elijah muses. "Perhaps I could drive you there."

Caroline purses her lips. "A friend? Seriously? Elijah, you have exactly one friend who doesn't share your last name: me."

"Nonsense. I'm not friends with my siblings."

Caroline rolls her eyes at him, but he can see she's biting back on a grin. "I think it would be better if -"

"If you had some company on the road," Liz chips in. "Thank you, Elijah."

"What about Eve?"

"I'll watch her." She puts her arms out, taking the baby from Caroline, who gives her mother a concerned look.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? You're tired from the hospital, how are you going to watch a toddler on your own?"

"I was looking forward to spending some quality time with my little one. We're gonna have fun watching Friends, aren't we, sweetie? Yes, we are!" Liz nuzzles her nose against Eve's, who giggles in response.

"Mom..." Caroline whines, unconvinced.

Elijah is torn. As much as he doesn't want to let Caroline go on her own to face what is likely to be yet another heartbreak, she is right. It's not wise to leave her mother with an energetic baby who's just starting to learn the wonders of her little legs. Before he can intervene, however, Liz puts her foot down.

"I can handle, sweetheart. She's pretty low maintenance. Besides, if Friends isn't her thing, we’ll switch to Baby Shark. And if I still feel it's getting hard, I'll call a babysitter to help me." Caroline opens her mouth to object, but she lifts a hand to cut her off. "I have your pre-approved list, in order of preference. Don't worry. We'll be fine. I hadn't seen her in three days."

Caroline's uncertain eyes cut to Elijah. If she asks, he'll stay. Of course he will. Instead, she lets out a resigned sigh. "Fine. But I will call you every hour on the hour."

"And I will set my watch by it."

Caroline places a kiss on her mother's cheek and then another one on her daughter's, wrapping both of them in a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

She shrugs on her jacket, grabs her bag and turns to Elijah. "So? You coming?" she tosses as she walks to the door.

Elijah hurries to grab his own jacket, doesn't even have enough time to put on a tie. "Are you sure you'll be fine? I can stay," he tells Liz.

"I'll be fine," she reassures him, the silent request glaring in her eyes. _Stay with Caroline._

Elijah gives her a solemn nod and then exits the house, heading to the car.

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When Elijah told her he would leave her to consult with the doctor and come back to meet her later, Caroline wasn't thrilled. As much as she wasn't all that excited about the prospect of having company on this trip at the beginning, as she approached Duke and the knot in her stomach tightened into rocks, the thought of not being alone brought her some comfort. This glioblastoma expert was her hail Mary; Liz was adamant in her decision not to try vampire blood, so finding a human cure was all she was left with.

When Dr. Moore looked at her mother's charts, compelled to tell Caroline only the truth, and said her doctors were doing everything they could, she felt the floor dissolving under her feet, saw the world turn grey all around her as her biggest fear gained contours of finality.

"Her treatment course is correct," Dr. Moore said, her voice even and professional, detached of any emotion. "It's a grade IV tumor, with metastasis to the spine, so she's not a candidate for any clinical trials. They could try full-brain radiation, but that would only buy her time, and at severe cost to her remaining quality life. She'll face cognitive and verbal decline, motor loss, personality change, and meanwhile she could still develop morphine-resistant pain."

"So..." Caroline stops, trying to swallow past the suffocating lump in her throat. "You're saying that there's no feasible medical solution. None."

"I really wish there was. I have a patient in nearly identical condition. He hasn't responded to any treatments. Now he's just running down the clock."

Something inside of Caroline stirred dangerously, and that was when she became instead grateful that Elijah didn't stick around for this part.

"Show me to his room," she commanded, looking deep into the woman's dazed eyes.

Later, perhaps, she'll find it in herself to feel guilty for abusing her vampirism. Now, however, she has only purpose in her step as she quietly slips into the patient's room, shutting the door behind her.

Caroline's heart gives an uncomfortable lurch at the sight before her. The air smells sterile, like disinfectant and medicine - _death_ , a voice in her head provides. The smell of a death that approaches you like a slow train towards a person tied to the tracks. She's had that scent committed to memory after the last two excruciating weeks, in and out of hospitals. This horrible smell clings to her mother's skin and hair even after they leave. It makes her stomach churn with nausea. The low whirring of machines is the only sign of life in the room. She can hardly see the man's face behind the mask helping him breathe. Even his heartbeats are slow and weak; he probably doesn't have much longer.

This, she thinks, could be her mom in a little while. Doctors said that, in an optimistic prognosis, she has two, three months at most. But her condition is so delicate and her tumor so aggressive that predictions are really just hunches. She could slip into a coma any day, they said.

Caroline's throat goes dry as she walks up to the bed, taking the chart there.

"Colin Phelps," she reads. "Inoperable tumor. They zapped your brain with radiation for months and still couldn't save you. Only thirty-six years old. So young... This is a fucked up disease. I'm sorry, Colin." Caroline walks around the bed to stand beside him. "The doctor said all they can do now is make you comfortable. Your chart says no next of kin. No one. That's very sad, too. But, you see, on my mom's chart, on this spot, next of kin, it's where my name goes. And I'm all she's got. I had a baby, she just turned one. My daughter can't grow up without her grandmother... And I can't be without my mom. So I think you'd understand, and maybe you'd even consent to this, seeing as you're... So far gone. I'm sorry, Colin, for what I'm going to do. But if this works... Then we'll both be very happy."

A tiny voice whispers to her that this is all shades of wrong as she pulls back the sleeves of her jacket, lifts her wrist to her mouth. It's stupid and selfish and borderline abusive. Everything she’s always abhorred about vampires, everything she never wanted to become. She doesn't even know this man. The fact he doesn't have a next of kin doesn't mean he doesn't have anybody who cares for him. Neighbors, coworkers, friends. Maybe even a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Someone he'd been on three promising dates with and who's now bawling their eyes out because they might be losing the love of their lives and will never have a chance to find out. He's probably suffered enough to get to this point, maybe even begged for death to come and gently sweep him away. And here she is, stealing that mercy from him on a whim, an experiment.

But if it works...

If vampire blood heals him, Colin will go back to his possibilities, his plans and future, a whole life ahead of him. He won't ever have to know what healed him, won't even remember her. And that will mean hope for her mom. So what if a bunch of old vamps and witches think this can't work? What do they know? Have they ever tried to heal a grade IV glioblastoma?

"I really hope this works," she whispers as she pulls down his mask, opens his mouth just a tad, and presses her wrist against his lips. "Please, be ok, Colin. _Please_."

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"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know."

"How is he out of bed? He couldn't even open his eyes from so much pain this morning, I had to punch morphine into him."

" _I don't know._ "

"That's impossible."

" _I know._ "

"What are the exams showing?"

"I'm still waiting for the results, but... I mean, he looks _fine_."

"Jesus."

"My thoughts exactly. I'm an atheist, but I think we're standing before a miracle."

Caroline puts a hand in front of her mouth to disguise her own disbelieved laugh, a flicker of pride rushing through her as she listens to Dr. Moore and another doctor whispering, wide-eyed, from the other side of the corridor. Colin Phelps stands before them, putting coins into the vending machine, apparently ready to eat a snack for the first time in over a month.

Not an hour after Caroline exited his room, he was already parading down the corridors, putting his leg muscles to use like he hadn't been able to do in weeks. His complexion was healthy, his strength was back, and he couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop waving at everybody he passed by. Nurses and doctors, used to inject him with medicine to keep him sedated, stared slack-jawed, like they were seeing a ghost. _Impossible_ , is what they all whispered to themselves. _Miraculous._

 _Magical_ , Caroline would counter.

Her vampire blood has put Colin Phelps back on his feet. The CT scans and blood tests aren't back yet, but Caroline knows they'll just confirm what's right before everyone's eyes: Colin Phelps is cured.

Sure, doctors will want to prod him and stick him with needles for a week more or so, his case will likely end up in dozens of medical journals and get a mention in every single med school across the country as doctors and scientists dive into it, trying to understand what happened, if the very cure for cancer lies somewhere inside this man’s body, but that's irrelevant. All that matters is that he'll live.

And so will her mother.

She's been following Colin around the hospital from a distance like a stalker, unable to move her eyes away, a bubble of joy growing larger in her chest each time the man smiles or does a little dance just because he suddenly can. She has no idea how long she's been there, watching him happily munch on five chocolate bars, but it must be quite a while, because suddenly Elijah materializes next to her.

Caroline can barely contain the glee. " _Look._ "

Elijah blinks. "What are we looking at?"

"An hour ago, that man was dying of brain cancer, hooked to a hundred different machines. Grade IV glioblastoma. He had weeks to live, maybe days. Now look at him." A crease appears between Elijah's eyebrows as understanding sinks in. He peers at the man in silence, and Caroline bumps her shoulder against his. "Smile, Elijah! This is good news! My blood worked, he's totally fine."

"It seems... Too easy."

"As opposed to what? Vampire blood healing a stab wound like it was never there? It's always easy. It's literally magic. Doesn't have to make sense, it just has to work."

"Caroline..." he sighs heavily, his eyes searching her face. "When I dropped you off here, I went to see someone I know. A witch. Very old, very powerful. Many years ago, she used to practice healing magic, and I know many of her spells and concoctions used vampire blood. She told me in no uncertain words that it does not work. Not like this, not for this kind of infirmity."

"Then what do you call this?"

Elijah's eyes cut to Colin, a pinched expression on his face. "She said sometimes the sick may show signs of improvement, but it never lasts. They either fall ill soon thereafter or... They die. With vampire blood in their systems."

Caroline's jaw clenches, gaze snapping back to her walking miracle. All of her hope threatens to descend into dread at his words, but she stops it with a firm shake of her head. "No," she spits with determination, fire burning in her eyes. "Look at him. He's _fine_. He's better than he's been in months. I've been chasing him around the hospital for over an hour. What if that witch is wrong?"

"She's tried healing everything using magic. I think she would know if there was a way. I asked, persistently," Elijah says with infinite patience. It makes her want to grab his shoulders and shake him.

He's not _looking_.

"Did you ask whether she thinks a vampire-werewolf hybrid who's been dead for a thousand years should be able to get someone pregnant? Or if the tribrid mystical blood of an unborn should turn someone into a vampire?" Elijah's gaze slides down. "Didn't think so. God, Elijah! You should know better than anyone that there are things in this world no one can explain. If you came here just to smother all my hope and kill my mom's chances, then you shouldn't have bothered."

Elijah looks up at her with guilt-ridden eyes. "Forgive me," he says. And she knows he means well, that he's genuinely trying to help, but the thought that her success might be short-lived and that this trip to Duke will turn out to be yet another hopeless dead end after such promise is too cruel. And not just for her.

Caroline turns away, back to where Colin is having a lively chat with a nurse, striving hard not to let discouragement kill her optimism in its cradle, but it’s too late. There's a pinch in her heart now, and even as Caroline fights to will it away, she can't help the fear that rears its head inside of her. All that joy has suddenly dissipated, and Caroline feels as though she's holding her breath, biding her time, waiting.

When, a moment later - seconds, minutes, she couldn't tell - Colin is afflicted by a terrible cough, his eyes bulging as though he can no longer find air, right before he falls to his knees, hands clawing at his throat, it comes almost as a lesser event, the end of an expectation.

She barely feels the way her heart suddenly sinks in her chest, registers only vaguely as the doctors call for assistance, for oxygen, and then a crash cart.

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Elijah stops the car in front of the Forbes residence, the low whirring of the engine the only sound disturbing the silence, lingering heavy and dense between them. Caroline hasn't uttered a single word since they walked out of the hospital, head hung low and shoulders down as though under a crushing weight.

While she watched with a frozen kind of dread as Colin Phelps's body went into a complete shutdown and doctors attempted in vain to revive him, Elijah watched her. He saw the exact moment her heart shattered into a thousand little pieces, when that tiny light he'd seen shimmering in her gaze just a moment before was extinguished, taking her last shreds of hope with it.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice barely audible as they sat in the morgue, next to Colin's cooling body, waiting for what they knew would come. He hadn't been entirely forthcoming with Caroline about what the witch told him, trying to spare her of the gory details; the return from death would be far more gruesome than slipping into it, and Elijah was hoping to put a quick end to the man's suffering, before Caroline could find even more reason to flail herself.

"It was more than his debilitated body could take," he explained. "The disease was too far ingrained into his system; he could not be healed. At the same time it accelerated his metabolism, it also quickened the disease spread. It was only a matter of time before his organs started failing."

Colin woke up screaming. _I can feel it, I can feel it_ , he kept yelling, over and over, his hands running up and down his body as though he was being licked by fire. Caroline held him down, tried to calm him, but Elijah knew better. What Colin could feel was his tumor spreading, taking over his entire body in inhuman speed, and it would never stop. Literally; as a vampire, it would never stop growing, but it would never kill him.

"Look away," Elijah said as he pushed Caroline gently back.

"Elijah -"

"Look. Away."

She didn't. Elijah drove a hand through his chest and ripped out his heart. Quick and painless; a mercy, all things considered. He put the heart back inside, covered the body with a sheet and pushed the drawer back into the wall.

The drive back to Mystic Falls was long and miserable, and Caroline remained resoundingly quiet the whole way.

For all his lauded rhetoric, Elijah now fumbles for the right words. He's no stranger to the horrors of death and grief, but the torture of losing someone like this, slowly, seeing as the light in their eyes dims a bit further every day, is one he is yet to experience. He knows death to be brutally fast - one moment they are there, the next they aren't. Liz Forbes is wasting away, and Caroline can do no more than watch and wait for the inevitable moment when it will all be over.

"I killed that man," she speaks after what feels like eons, her voice rasping out through tight muscles. She finally turns her face to him, her eyes nearly black in the faint light filtering in from the street, glazed with guilt.

She searches his face with a silent plea, begging for censure, to be chided and blamed for her wrongdoings. Perhaps because he already did that once before. He never realized until this very moment the sheer cruelty of his actions.

"He was already dying," he offers kindly.

"I still killed him."

"You gave him a moment of hope."

"What hope?" she snaps, angry tears welling in her eyes. "He was up on his feet for five minutes and then he..." Caroline cuts herself off abruptly, face whipping away from Elijah as she turns back to the window. "I'm such an idiot. Klaus explained to me all of the limitations of vampire blood when Father Kieran was in the hospital. Damon and Stefan said the same thing. _You_ told me it wouldn't work. And in my infinite arrogance, thinking that a useless baby vampire who doesn't know anything about anything could ever figure out something that a bunch of Originals never did, I -"

"Caroline," he interjects, his voice pleasant but determined. "Look at me." She lets out a shuddery breath, but complies. "You refused to lose hope, and you cannot be faulted for it. You mothered an impossible child. You were turned into a vampire by werewolf blood. You cheated a millennium old ritual to bind yourself to the Crescents' alpha and share your gifts with the entire pack. You've seen more mysterious things happen in your short life than many vampires experience in centuries. It's understandable that you'd hope for a miracle. I would, too, if I were in your place."

"That's no excuse. I stole something from that man, and if you hadn't been there... Elijah, I would've walked out of that hospital thinking that it had worked. I would've come home to do the same thing to my _mother._ "

"Don't punish yourself for things that did not come to pass."

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you. You were right, and I was stubborn, and it was not fair."

He shakes his head lightly. "Don't apologize. I had hoped to be wrong, too."

Caroline bites on her lip, her expression softening slightly. "Thank you for coming with me today," she says, earnestly. "Thank you for not treating me like a crazy person, even though that's pretty much how I've felt for weeks now."

"I know crazy, Caroline. It runs in my blood. You couldn't be further away from it."

She nods, head dipping for a moment. "Are you going back to New Orleans now?"

"Not yet."

"The guest room is all yours," she offers with a mild smile that does not meet her eyes.

"Thank you. I can't stay tonight, but I'll be back tomorrow." She doesn't ask him where he's going or what plans he could possibly have. Maybe she already knows. Either way, Elijah's glad to not have to say it out loud; he knows it would only add more torment to her pain. "Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

Caroline leans forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Elijah plants a kiss on her head and watches as she steps out of the car, dread edging her every movement as she marches up to her home. Just before opening the front door, Caroline stops - her hand on the doorknob, eyes closed - commanding all of the grief away from her face, drying out her eyes and schooling her expression into as much blankness as she can muster. It sends a pang shooting through him.

He waits for a bit, watches as Matt Donovan exits a couple of minutes later and climbs into his truck. The house seems impossibly quiet, nothing but a dim orange glow lighting up the living room.

He has a three hours’ drive ahead of him now, back to Duke. Caroline needed to leave that place as fast as possible, and so he didn't force her to linger, but that mess needs to be wiped out of records. He compelled the medical examiner to not open the drawer where Colin Phelps was stored, to avoid anyone finding the suspicious heart injury on the miracle patient who died of multiple organ failure, but he could not compel the entire hospital to stay away. It's not uncommon for terminal patients to present sudden improvements right before they die, but Colin's was perhaps a bit _too_ extreme. It's likely to attract some attention. Not to mention, Elijah has no idea what the exams doctors ran after he woke up will show. All that needs to be destroyed, and Colin Phelps’ recovery, scratched from records. His body has to be disposed of. Elijah could never ask Caroline to stay through all that.

He scrubs a hand through his face, feeling a wave of fatigue. Cleaning up messes is somewhat of a specialty of his, and this is one he will gladly make sure never comes back to haunt them. But first...

Elijah considers his phone for a second before hitting the green button. He lifts it to his ear, a bitter smile plastered on his face.

"Voice mail. Why am I not surprised?" He exhales heavily, head leaning back against the headrest of his seat. "I'm calling to let you know that while you nurse the remnants of your bruised ego, Caroline is telling her mother that she cannot be fixed. Elizabeth Forbes is dying and no magic or science in this world can save her. And you would let her weather this pain on her own." There's a pause, his eyes wandering to the windows. The curtains are drawn, and he can see no more than a shadow dancing behind it. "She needs you, Niklaus. And if you abandon this woman now... Then you never deserved her, and you would do well to stay away from her and her daughter for good."

Elijah ends the call, puts his phone away and drives off into the night.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline's shaking when she pushes the front door open, a shudder that starts deep in her chest and spreads forward in waves. Her heart thunders against her ribcage as she braces herself for the conversation that awaits her.

How do you tell someone you love with every tiny inch of your soul that they are going to die and there's nothing you can do to save them? How do you sit back and simply watch it happen?

She's afraid to even think about it, let alone say it out loud. There is power in words, and the mere act of putting it out in the world makes it somehow more real, brings the hazy future into focus, gives it the cruel lines of inevitability. What good is it having a daughter who's a vampire forged out of werewolf blood if that kind of magic is worth nothing when you need it the most?

She saw Matt's truck parked outside, and for a second she was almost worried, but the scene she finds at the living room is staggering in its easy domesticity. Matt lounging on the couch with Eve asleep on top of him while her mother is comfortably settled on her favorite chair, her legs tucked under her body and a blanket around her shoulders. They were all watching TV, but when she walks in, both blonde heads turn to greet her, big smiles on their faces.

"Hi, sweetheart," her mother coos. Matt just mouths _Hi!_ and then points down to the sleeping baby.

"She just fell asleep," her mother offers.

Caroline's lips curl into an earnest smile, a little warm feeling breaking through the dread coiling around her insides. "You said you would call a sitter," she tells her mom.

"Well, Matt was available."

"I volunteered," he whispers brightly, carefully pulling himself into a sitting position, maneuvering Eve so that she's curled up against his chest.

Matt had joined a community protection squad, which brought him closer to Liz, especially since the man in charge of the program, Tripp Cooke, turned out to be a vindictive vampire hunter. The whole thing was a sore mess for everyone, but being a part of it awakened in Matt the desire to one day join the police force, and Liz took him under her wing, showing him the ropes.

It feels like a lifetime ago when Caroline used to fantasize about being Mrs. Donovan, come up with all the details for their perfect June wedding, wonder what their babies would look like, hoping they would be all real-life cherubims like Matt. There's some irony in the fact she ended up having a child with the devil instead. Not that anybody would ever be able to tell just by looking at Eve; her devilish father kind of looks like a daydream himself.

"How was Duke?" her mother asks conversationally, in that casual way mothers have of inquiring their children on their day. But the question tugs at Caroline's heart like a hook, pulling it down into misery once more. Both Liz and Matt look expectantly at her, and it's suddenly agonizingly hard to keep her face straight and not look away.

"It was... nice," she says shortly, her smile tasting bitter.

"I think I'm gonna take off," Matt announces as he stands up. He passes Eve over to Caroline, the little girl so exhausted she doesn't even stir.

"Thank you for watching my girls, Matt," she whispers to him.

Matt puts a hand on her arm. "Any time. Bye, sheriff."

"Have a good night, Matt. Thanks for keeping me company."

"It was my pleasure."

He nods towards them and walks out. If there's one thing Matt's always had was an incredible sense of awareness. He always knew when something was off, when someone was lying to him, even if he couldn't begin to fathom the kind of secret he was being kept from. Caroline can swear he felt the hesitation in her, the anxiety rising exponentially in her system, even as she did her best to keep it off her features. He knew she needed a moment alone with her mother, and promptly excused himself.

"I'll be right back," she tells her mom, and goes up to put Eve in her crib, taking an unnecessary long time, trying to cool her nerves.

_Don't cry, Caroline. Don't cry._

Caroline presses her eyes shut, taking a steadying breath, then another, and another, before she heads back down. Avoiding her mother's gaze, she takes a seat on the couch Matt had been occupying before, pretending to take interest in checking out the DVDs on the center table. All classics from her mother's collection.

"How was your day?" she asks offhandedly.

"It was good. Watched a bunch of movies, had some fun with Eve." After a pause, Liz asks, "Where's Elijah?"

"I don't really know."

"Did he go home?"

"No, he's around, I think," she says, pretending she can't hear the tiny shudder in her own voice. She would bet all her money that Elijah went back to North Carolina to clean up her mess. Elijah's too nice for his own good. She loves him for his good intentions, and was only too glad to let him go without a question, but it hasn't made much of a difference in her state of mind. Caroline feels buried under seven layers of shit whether he tells her the truth or not. "He said he had some things to do and will be back tomorrow."

Her mother nods slowly. "So... Did you meet with the expert?" Caroline can hear how her fragile heart is beating rapidly and off-rhythm inside her chest. She had hopes for this, too.

She lets out a quaky gust of air as she stands up to sit on the coffee table in front of her, gathering every scattered ounce of courage inside of her in order to look into her eyes.

"I did," Caroline starts, biting on her lower lip as she fights with the burning behind her eyes.

"And?"

"And… She said that your doctors are doing everything right. There are no more treatment options to..." She stops, stumbling over her own tongue. "To cure you."

"Oh." Liz nods in understanding. Everything inside of Caroline hurts at the look of disappointment on her mother's face. "So I guess that's it, then."

"I didn't want to accept it," she says, feeling as hot tears spring up in her eyes despite all her best efforts. "So I gave my blood to a cancer patient. One with a grade IV glioblastoma who had been through all the rounds of radiation his body could take. And I healed him. He was dying and my blood made him better. I thought I'd found the solution, that I had just cured cancer, but... Elijah went to see this old witch he knows, who's been doing healing magic for ages, and she told him that it wouldn't work. She said patients either died shortly after taking the blood, or they just went back to being as ill as before, sometimes worse. Vampire blood... It speeds up the process, so instead of healing you, it... Kills you faster. I refused to believe him because I was seeing the guy up on his feet, walking around the hospital... I even yelled at Elijah." Caroline looks down at her own hands, her face crumpling up as a sob escapes her lips, tears running freely down her cheeks now. "I killed a man, mom."

"Oh, Caroline..." Liz leans forward on her seat, pulling her daughter into a tight hug. Caroline buries her face into her mother's neck, mashing her eyes together as sobs quake through her body.

"I'm sorry, mom," she mutters. "I'm so sorry. I wanted it to work, I was trying to help... But I ruined everything. I killed that man and I can't save you. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, sweetheart," her mother coos, running a soothing hand up and down her back. "It's ok."

"No, it's not. I left you here on your own for so long. If I'd been here -"

"Nothing would've been different, honey," she Liz interrupts her softly. "There's no way anyone would've known what was happening until I had the first symptoms. Don't blame yourself for this."

Gently, Caroline peels away from her mother, her lips trembling. "You could've spent more time with Eve. I robbed you of all the time you had with your granddaughter. How am I supposed to raise her now? I don't know what I'm doing, mom. I _need_ you. I know this is selfish, but I just don't want to lose you."

"Oh, sweetheart..." Liz' mouth curves into a warm smile, her eyes filled with nothing but affection. Not a hint of regret or bitterness marring the placidness of her face. She cups Caroline's cheek with one hand, caressing her with the pad of her thumb. "I don't want to lose you either. No time with the ones we love is ever enough, but I've lived a good life, Caroline, and you gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for. I am _so_ glad that you came home with your little one. I would wish for nothing more than to spend whatever time I have left with the two of you. I wouldn't even mind an Original or two."

Caroline chuckles with the edge of a sob before her face crumples up all over again.

"Come here," Liz says, making room on her chair for Caroline to sit with her, cuddling her daughter in her arms not unlike Eve was in Caroline's just a moment before. She rests her head on her mother's shoulder, wrapping an arm around her. Caroline tries to concentrate on her mother's heartbeats, so calm now, on the warmth of her embrace, the sweet fragrance that is so _Liz_.

"I'm sorry," she mutters again, the words rattling away inside of her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." She plants a kiss on Caroline's forehead. "We're gonna be alright."

 _I will never be all right again_ , she thinks. _I will never be alright without you._

She curls up into a ball and snuggles up against Liz, pretending for just a second that they can live forever in their little bubble and that tomorrow will never come to reap her mother away.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a song to go with that last scene between Caroline and Liz. It's [Heal, by Tom Odell.](https://open.spotify.com/track/4KlL5Bwlm4yHYxr0B2rHci?si=TJCUzV_zQa-amAUnkyrcXw)
> 
> SO! 🤣 I know there was a noticeable absence in this chapter! Elijah was kind of the MVP here! 💖 Don't worry, though, Klaus will be back real soon. There was just a lot that needed to be dealt with in this chapter, a lot of backstory to be introduced, and this is actually two episodes of TVD combined into one. I'm curious to know what you guys think Klaus has been up to. 🤔 
> 
> I feel like I should've maybe said something about this up there, but this story will be very Elena-friendly. lol A lot of things will be addressed as we move forward in one way or another, but overall, they're still very much friends here, as they were on the show, and considering Caroline's special circumstances (re: baby), I feel like Elena would very much be on her side. 
> 
> Regarding Elijah knowing Liz from before, while I can't pinpoint if this happened exactly, I had this clear memory if it being a thing. But maybe I was mistaking Liz and Jenna. Either way, it's still very likely the two of them would've crossed paths when Elijah was searching for the moonstone, so if that didn't happen, I just made it up and that's it. lol
> 
> Also, many thanks to **@recyclingss** who was incredibly patient with me while I freaked out about this chapter, and to the ever sweet **@destellolunar** who did BEAUTIFUL gifs of Klaroline and Baby Eve that I'm still crying about! 😭
> 
> Next chapter is one of my all-time favorites in this story, so I hope you guys are still looking forward to it after this! 🤣 Writing Caroline with a child and the Originals into some of these things was a challenge, but I hope you guys like the way it turned out. :) As far as plans go, I intend to have another chapter out before the end of the year. THAT'S THE PLAN! Fingers crossed that I can keep it this time! 🤞
> 
> I'm really excited to know what you guys think about the reception Caroline got in Mystic Falls and how she settled back into her old life.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	24. S02E24 A Prayer for the Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very impressed with myself that I was able to fulfill my promise to get another chapter out before the end of the year! 😂 Go, me! 
> 
> Thank you very much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! ❤️ And to those of you who have kept up with this story all this time. This will be my last update of 2020, a year that was a hell and a half for so many of us. Writing this fic, knowing that folks out there wanted to read it, was what kept me from going completely insane or falling head-first into the Great Depression. So thank you very much! Your support has meant the world to me. ❤️
> 
> I really like this chapter, it has some very important moments, so I hope you guys enjoy it, too! :) And I'm looking forward to your reactions! So if you'd like to leave a holidays gift to this fic writer who's been in isolation for ten months, I will take it in the form of your comment. 😂😂 (Too on the nose? Sorry! Must be the holiday cheer! lol)
> 
> This story was nominated for a **KC Award** as **Best Canon-ish AU** , and I was nominated as **Best Supernatural Writer**! Yay! ❤️ If you'd like to cast a vote for me or for this fic (or for one of my other fics also nominated in different categories), you can do so here, on the **KC Awards tumblr page**. You don't need a tumblr to vote, just send your votes through the ask box. I highly recommend that you check out all the categories and the nominated fics! They're amazing!
> 
> Please, read the notes at the bottom for more! Thank you!

* * *

Elijah lets out a deep sigh as he walks up to the hospital entrance in a slow march. He did not expect to be back here so soon.

The clean-up in Duke took longer than he anticipated. As soon as he arrived, it became clear that the list of people to be compelled was far more extensive than he'd hoped for. There was a mild unrest already running through the medical staff at the hospital, whispers and tension in the corridors as the news about a strange death spread like wildfire. Elijah had to follow the gossip all the way to its last receiver - a nurse who was about to head home, whom he'd managed to stop just before she got in her car. Only once he was sufficiently satisfied that he'd gotten to everyone, did he compel someone to officially alter the data in the system.

Colin Phelps died of a multiple organs failure after showing improvement for a brief moment. His lab exams confirmed the disease had not receded. A hired company had taken his body to be buried in a cemetery in Charlotte. All the papers were adequately signed and filed away. That was the end of that.

Elijah exited the building through a back door and put the body bag in his car. He didn't stop until he'd crossed into Virginia. Colin Phelps' final resting place is a secluded woodland off Route 85. No one will ever find him, but he'll rest in more peace than he had in the last months of his life.

He'd just put down his shovel and was considering whether 7am was too early for whiskey when his phone rang. Caroline's words were brief, but he could hear all the spikes of terror in her voice.

"It's my mom," she said. "She's not doing so well. Just fainted in the bathroom. I'm taking her to the hospital."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

His desperate need for a drink, though increased, would have to wait on hold. Elijah flew through the rest of the way, making it back to Mystic Falls in almost half the time it would normally take. But as soon as he got out of the car, something slowed his pace. He was afraid of what he'd find inside, of how Caroline would be, suddenly feeling awfully poor for the likely task of having to comfort her.

Just as he's reaching the entrance with dread roiling around his stomach, Elena Gilbert comes out. The moment she sets eyes on him, she stops dead on her tracks, a blend of shock and tension coloring her delicate features.

"Miss Gilbert," Elijah greets pleasantly, affording her a smile. He hadn't seen her since Katerina's passing. Or what he assumed had been Katerina's passing, anyway. Apparently, she'd found a way to linger on inside Elena's body for weeks, tricking everyone. Caroline was horrified when she shared the details of the story with him, but Elijah couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. Katerina... She did not survive Niklaus' wrath for 500 years to be defeated by something as trivial as mortality. A fighter to the very end. 

Elijah has come to respect Elena over time, resilient in her own way, and having your body forcibly occupied by another soul is, indeed, a nasty violation. But after everything that happened to Rebekah and his willing participation in killing Eva Sinclair just so his sister could take over her life for good, he's relinquished the right to cast judgement upon such things.

He is, however, always glad to see Elena, even if her beautiful and slightly frightened face tugs at something cold inside his chest now. The memories of what he did to Tatia are suddenly all too fresh.

"Elijah," she replies, strained.

"No need to look so nervous, Elena. I'm here on a personal visit."

She frowns for a second before realization dawns on her, her lips forming a silent _Oh_. "Right. I keep forgetting that Caroline... She mentioned that you were..." She shakes her head. "I forgot. So you're here to see Liz, then?"

Elijah nods. "Have you seen her?"

Elena's lips twist. "She's not doing so well."

"And Caroline?"

"Not doing well either," Elena says quietly. "She's very... Edgy."

"She's losing her mother. I'm sure you can understand what she's going through better than myself."

"I do. Of course I do. A lot more than I wish I did, to be honest. I just... Wish I knew how to help her. I feel so powerless. I've been through this so many times and I still have no idea _how_ to reach her and make her less... Desperate." Elena puffs out, shoulders sagging in frustration.

"I know the feeling only too well; frustration is a rather close companion of mine. What I believe, Elena, from a certain experience, is that in times like this the best you can do is just be her friend. Don't treat her like she's made of crystal or as though she were verging on insanity, about to snap at any second. Something I’ve learned the hard way… Caroline doesn't like to be handled. Give her space to feel every shade of grief she must, and there will be many... But make sure she knows you're there for her."

Elena's expression softens, her lips curving up into a grin. "She told me you two became very close. You guys went through some stuff in New Orleans, huh?"

"That's one way to put it."

"I wish I could've been there for her for all that, too."

"And I'm sure she would've appreciated having your reassuring company, but she was only ever trying to protect you. All of you. Besides... Caroline wasn't alone. She had quite a captivating effect over the inhabitants of the Crescent City."

"Except for the ones trying to kill her left and right, you mean," Elena says with a harsh look. "She's different now. I mean, she's still the same bubbly, ray of sunshine Caroline, just... Grown up. Hardened. You can see that she's been hurt, and it's made her... More resolute than ever. She's grown a thick skin. Her drive is unflinching now."

"Well, she's a vampire. It comes with the job."

"I know, but... I always knew there was nothing Caroline couldn't do, but this? The pregnancy, the witches, giving birth the way she did... She is so strong. But at the same time... It's so much harder now to reach her when she's become so self-sufficient. She won't let anybody in. She's been treating her mother's illness like a war operation from day one, with all her plans and options and lists, trying not to let herself feel. And _that_ is something I know very intimately. It didn't end well for me."

Elijah's brow creases, he takes a step closer to Elena "Are you afraid she might want to turn off her emotions?"

Elena shrugs timidly. "I don't know. Caroline was away for over a year, and she came back a different person. Right now, I'm afraid of what will happen when the dam breaks and the things she's been trying to hold out finally hit."

Elijah considers Elena's cautionary words. He hasn't been around for long, but it's easy to see how the strain has taken a harsh toll on Caroline. It's in her nature to want to be in control, to take the reins and breathe order into chaos, except this is completely out of her hands. Liz Forbes is getting worse faster than anybody anticipated, already back in the hospital only a day after being released. She doesn't have much time left. Elena is right; they should all be afraid of what will happen to Caroline once the inevitable is upon them.

"Anyway," Elena speaks after a moment, pulling Elijah back from his musings. "I have a psycho witch asleep at my place, so... Gotta go see to that. I'm glad you're here to take over. Good luck."

"It was good seeing you, Elena."

She smiles sweetly at him. "You, too. I'd forgotten not all Mikaelsons are awful. But don't tell Caroline I said that. She's become very defensive of Klaus' honor," Elena speaks around an eyeroll, shaking her head. "I'll never get used to that."

"Well, perhaps you should refrain from speaking ill of Klaus altogether." Elijah whips around at the sound of his brother's sneering voice. Niklaus materializes besides him, lips quirked upwards into a wicked smirk as he stares at a frightened Elena. "He's not very fond of hearing it himself and, in case it's been forgotten, he's known to have quite a temper."

The poor girl takes a nervous step back, heart a manic thud in her chest. If she'd seemed fearful before, it was nothing compared to her posture now, every line of her figure indicating she's ready to bolt.

Niklaus smiles with amusement. "Hello, doppelganger."

Elijah sighs wearily. "Niklaus, must you?"

"She was the one talking about me, I can't help I have a remarkably good hearing. Although - I must say, I do appreciate knowing I've left a mark on the lovely folk of Mystic Falls." Elena swallows down hard, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Oh, there's no need to be jumpy, love. Let bygones be bygones. I promise I harbor no hard feelings. For most of you. Well, some. One or two, anyway."

Elena keeps her eyes firmly trained on Niklaus as she says, "I have to go," and then flashes away, not even bothering with the fact she's in front of a hospital and anyone could see her.

"Scaredy cat, that one," Klaus states flatly.

Elijah doesn't hide the judgement as he regards his brother. "And you wonder why people don't like you."

"And I shall cry myself to sleep."

"That is not even worth the argument," he says around a sigh. "Decided to grace us with your presence, did you?"

"Oh, spare me the caustic commentary, Elijah. I don't care much for that either," Klaus retorts, his biting attitude already rearing its head. Elijah did think he seemed to be in a rather blithe mood for the occasion. As soon as Elena disappears, however, his expression changes, making his discomfort apparent.

"Color me beige with surprise," Elijah deadpans. "I'm glad to see you got my message, after all."

"I was close by," he offers simply.

“Where have you been?”

“That’s none of your business, is it?” Klaus turns his face to the hospital, as though expecting Caroline to walk out any moment. "How is the sheriff?"

"Not well, from what the girl you just spooked away briefly informed me. I just got here myself."

Klaus peers at him curiously, his eyes roaming up and down Elijah. "You seem rumpled. Care to share where _you’ve_ been?"

"Now _that_ is most definitely none of your business."

Klaus bites back on what was certain to be a waspish retort, deciding to leave it at that. "What do you know?"

"She fainted early this morning."

He goes quiet for a moment, an unreadable emotion flickering through his eyes. "Caroline?"

Elijah nods towards the hospital. "See for yourself."

Klaus hesitates for a second, visibly annoyed at being kept in the dark before facing the storm. Elijah does not feel the slightest bit sorry. He's not here to make his negligent brother feel better, although he'll admit to be glad that Niklaus has finally grown a shred of conscience and decided to crawl out of hiding. He'll even refrain from being unnecessarily spiteful for the sake of Caroline.

What Elena mentioned about not being able to reach her... It's true. Elijah experienced the same thing months ago, shortly after her transition. The only person who could ever touch Caroline in the depths of her despair was Niklaus. His presence here, however disruptive, as made obvious by Elena's reaction, might be exactly what she needs. And there's also the matter of their daughter. Elijah will gladly watch over his niece, but she has a father, and one who should be stepping up to occupy his place as her mother struggles under excruciating circumstances. As much as he'd like to make do without Niklaus' unstable mess around, he'll hold a white flag and call a truce. For now, anyway. For Caroline.

His brother sets his shoulder, jaw clenched, and strides off towards the hospital entrance like a man ready for battle. In a way, that's exactly what he'll face inside.

For Caroline's sake, Elijah hopes he wins.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Snickers, Mars, KitKat or Reese's.

Caroline lets out a deep sigh, considering the options in front of her, stomach clenching in apprehension. So much hinges on this decision... And she only has enough change for one chance. Making the wrong chocolate choice here will ruin the rest of her day, which hasn't been great by any standards.

She barely had any sleep the night before. Stayed up late with a bottle of wine long after her mother had gone to bed, listening to her sound breathing, hoping it would ease some of the burden rattling away inside of her. Every time Liz turned in bed, Caroline's heart would skip a beat. She finally had a long bath and went to bed sometime after 4. She doesn't feel like she got any shuteye, but she must've dozed off because she was startled awake just after 7 by something heavy toppling down. She whooshed out of bed to find her mother passed out on the bathroom floor. Everything has gone by in a haze since then.

Liz has been in and out of exam rooms and no doctors have stopped by with updates yet. After weeks of this, Caroline has picked up on the tells. No news means bad news. If there was anything to comfort her, even slightly, someone would've said something. At this point, she is not sure she wants to hear it, anyway. It can't be much different from all the hundreds of lectures she's received so far, all those compassionate looks, faux comforting touches and carefully constructed sentences. All bullshit variations of the same thing: _Your mother is going to die._

Well, what the _hell_ is she supposed to do with that? It's neither an answer nor a reassurance, thus rendering it completely useless. All Caroline needs is for them to do their goddamn job and make her mother comfortable for whatever time she has left, and it seems they can't even do that. She will not allow Liz to fade away like Colin Phelps, bed-ridden and so miserable that death will become a mercy.

_Snickers, Mars, Kit Kat or Reese's._

Her peace of mind depends on picking the right chocolate bar to sweeten her mood. She could desperately use that serotonin right about now. There’s no telling what will happen if she chooses wrong. Will she lash out the doctors avoiding her? Will she drain the hospital’s entire blood bank? Will she end up eating someone?

Mars. Mars it is.

Caroline pushes all her change into the vending machine and presses the numbers. Nothing happens. She presses again. Still nothing. "What the fuck?" She tries the numbers again, with intent, almost punching them in. The machine wheezes pitifully, but it does not move.

"Seriously?! What kind of freaking hospital is this? Coffee machine is not working, now this stupid thing! If you can't even fix a machine, how are you supposed to fix people?!" With a grunt, she pushes the machine back. It hits the wall behind it, making a weird whirring noise, but still nothing happens.

A nurse walking by gives her a stern look, like _she_ is the one in the wrong here. "What?!" she snaps. "It stole all my goddamn change!" The man shakes his head and walks away.

She puffs out in frustration, scrubbing a hand through her hair.

"Perhaps I might be of assistance."

She swivels around like thunder, an abrupt chill pooling at the base of her spine. Klaus is casually standing there, a single dimple cut into his cheek as he smiles at her. Caroline's heart lurches violently and her jaw falls slack, all coherent response dying on the way between her brain and her mouth.

She keeps her unblinking eyes trained on him as he takes an assessing glance at the machine and then punches it on the side, just once, his fist leaving a dent on the metal. The thing almost tumbles sideways, but Klaus pulls it back. And then dozens of chocolate bars drop - as well as Caroline's change.

She blinks at the machine, then back at him, almost expecting Klaus to vanish out of thin air, another fabrication of her overloaded stressed out mind. Caroline wouldn't put it past her screwed up head to conjure up the illusion of Klaus as a diversion tactic; she was pretty much about to blow up on that vending machine.

When his eyes meet hers again, his lips turn soft. "Hello, love."

"What..." Caroline tries to speak, but her voice catches. She clears her throat, averting his gaze for a moment, rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans. "What are you doing here?"

He hesitates. “I heard about your mother."

"Oh. So you do get my messages, you just... Choose not to reply," she says, words coming out more waspish than she'd meant. It's hard to untangle the sudden wave of relief that washes over her from the prickly anger.

Klaus has the decency to appear guilty. "I'm so sorry, Caroline."

"Well, are you here to see Eve?" she asks, ignoring the twinge in her chest and looking away from the intensity in his eyes. "She's home, with the babysitter." Klaus draws in a breath, ready for a reply, but Caroline raises a hand to stop him. "Before you say anything, she is trustworthy and comes with fantastic references, all of which were thoroughly checked. She's perfect and great with children. Eve loves her."

His smile is familiar and affectionate and it makes her want to punch him. "I'd expect nothing less. Yes, I would love to see my daughter. However... I'm here to see you first. Apologies for the delay."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline rips bites out of her snack as though it has personally offended her, tearing the chocolate bars to shreds and barely munching on them before swallowing. Klaus even sees a little hint of a fang there. She grabbed as many as she could carry from the machine and sat down on a bench at the end of the corridor without uttering a single word.

It doesn't take a genius to understand the metaphor - or better yet, the very clear message - behind the vicious way she indulges in the sugar rush: it's what she wishes she was doing to him. Lacerating his neck instead of a piece of caramel covered in chocolate, a poor replacement for his bitter blood. Vindication, however, does have a sweet taste, he can confirm.

He considered sending a warning ahead of his arrival, letting her know he was coming, just to test the waters. But the truth is... He didn't know what to say. He finds his famed eloquence has been somewhat crippled after the last three months. All those beautiful words and languages he's learned how to shape into soft caresses or wield as the most lethal of weapons were reduced to bestial grunts and wistful howls. Even now, he still feels awkward, his thoughts sometimes escaping coherence in favor of disgruntled synapses that reverberate across his entire system but that he cannot fully translate, let alone explain.

When Caroline left... He was angry. All he knew was white, hot rage, something corporeal and hard that took shelter inside of him and refused to leave, refused to burn out. The ache of her absence flared up unrelenting, consuming all his thoughts, smothering his days in misery.

It didn't matter to him that Caroline might have had compelling reasons. That she wanted to see her mother. That knowing those pesky flea-ridden Crescents would be roaming around on four legs for the foreseeable future was a thorn in her side. All that mattered, all that registered in the chaos of Klaus' mind, was that she'd packed her bags, took their daughter and left. Left _him_. After everything he'd done to get her back and save their child, the extreme lengths to which he'd gone, his siblings' foolish hurt feelings and a bunch of werewolves were all it took for her to turn her back on him without a second thought. Hell would freeze over before anyone got an apology out of him.

Klaus was not sorry. He was _angry_.

At first, he sought the usual avenues, attempting to quell his sorrow in bourbon and paint, but that quickly proved not to be enough. There was a turmoil inside of him that would not settle, as though his mind was drowning in uproar. His monster roared deep in his chest, surging closer to the surface with each passing day, clawing at him, trying to carve its way out. No amount of alcohol or choleric attack upon a canvas would give him a modicum of peace. So Klaus started to indulge in a different type of craving. Or _over_ indulging, he might say.

In the darkest hours of the night, when things got rough and nothing could take the edge off his souring mood, he would leave the compound and satiate his thirst the only way he knew how. More than a few bodies were piled up on filthy alleys. It's not like Klaus to do these deeds in secret, or to be this sloppy with his food. He knows how to have fun without killing, and he knows better than to leave evidence behind. He couldn't be bothered to clean up after himself, but neither could he do it in broad daylight, or when he was more likely to be spotted by prying eyes. He was miserable enough as it was, the last thing he needed was to have Elijah and his righteous indignation breathing down his neck - or worse, making the news travel all the way to Mystic Falls.

For one brilliant minute, as he sank his teeth into tender, pliant necks and felt the rush of blood filling his mouth, thrumming across his body like a jolt of pure euphoria, the world would quiet down, the monster would rest still and the uproar in his head would dissipate. But it never lasted long. As soon as he was done, the madness would quicken its pace to catch up.

Every time his phone flared up with a message from Caroline - a video of their daughter's attempts at her first words, a photo of her chocolate-smeared mouth as her mother baked cookies - Klaus saw red. It was like someone had put a fist through his chest, seized his heart and jerked it out, over and over and over. He was furious, and then pitifully glum, sinking fast into the pit of despair.

Resentment was eating him alive, and it would drive him crazy.

One night, when he was out hunting for his next meal, something just snapped. Instead of wandering through the Quarter, Klaus took his car and drove away. Far, far away. He was barely aware of thinking, had no idea what he was doing, just allowed this tormented creature inhabiting his subconscious to take over and lead the way. After hours and hours, when the sun was already high in the sky, he stopped, and suddenly it was like the clouds had parted after a long and merciless storm. Klaus could finally see clearly. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, how to put an end to his affliction.

The clash of wills with the beast inside of him, which left him constantly wired up and on the brink of a meltdown, gained new contours as unexpected comprehension downed on him. He could feel it pushing at the edges of his mind, growling with animalistic impulses, defying the self-conscious walls around the very core of his being. That flicker of awareness, never particularly strong in him, that separates man and monster. It slayed through all his defenses and took over.

Klaus surrendered, and never went back home.

The last two and a half months went by in a daze. Klaus has many memories, most of them too raw or too complex to be rationalized or drawn into straight lines. The only concrete thing he has in his mind is something Ansel told him right before he died. About how he'd wake up closer to Eve every time he transformed on the full moon. That her blood sang to him, drawing him closer and closer, as Klaus' did when he was a child.

It was true, he can attest now.

He would, however, correct Ansel’s assumption that it had to do with blood; it is, in fact, more than that. His bond with his siblings is proof that there is power in the blood they share, but that's not what digs up the bulk of emotions from the deepest wells of Klaus' heart. A maddening, all-consuming and oftentimes torturing feeling that reigns over all manner of rhyme or reason. Love, in its purest and most untamed form. It’s how much he wants to protect it. How much he craves to be near it. Blood plays some part, for certain, but it's not all, not by far.

Once a month, Klaus would head back to where he'd left his things, just to check in on real life. Elijah would hardly ever try to contact him, but the missed calls and messages from Freya and Camille were never-ending, and Rebekah certainly knew how to be persistent whenever she had cell phone service. After a while, he wouldn’t even read or listen to those anymore; he knew exactly what they'd say. Variations on the same sentimental pleas, trying to infuse him with guilt. What they failed to understand is that Klaus was simply incapable of feeling any more guilty than he already did. His well was full; he'd reached his limit long ago.

After the first couple of weeks, when he came back to his shelter for the first time, he realized his sister would try to use her magic to find him, and so he had a friendly witch put him under a cloaking spell in exchange for a revenge she needed carried out against an old vampire who'd murdered her sister. Took Klaus a single day to have the man's delirious body, already at the height of poisonous fever, delivered to her doorstep. He could’ve just given her his head, but he figured she'd be more grateful were she to receive the chance to watch him waste away into insanity and die a slow, painful death instead. He was right. The cloaking spell was flawless, and not even Freya could pierce through the magic, not without a considerable effort she wouldn't be willing to invest. It just wasn't worth it.

What did strike him, however, was the tone of Caroline's messages. Those he always did listen to, read with painstaking attention. He checked all the photos and all the videos of Eve, the shards of his fractured heart rattling away inside his chest as he saw his daughter take her first steps, utter her first words. All away from him. Klaus was still far too hurt and angry to concede and apologize, but if he said it didn't cut to his flesh to not be there for his daughter's first birthday, he'd be lying. He delivered the gifts, even considered, for a whole of ten seconds, knocking on the door of Caroline's modest rental, just to hug and kiss Eve and remind her of his love. As quickly as the idea came, however, it went away, and so did Klaus.

As time passed, Caroline's pacifying and temperate tone changed, morphed by her own growing resentment. The longer he went without a word, the harsher her voice sounded on those voicemails. She started sending him less and less photos and videos, her messages dwindling to a near stop. Her last text had been sent about a week after Eve's birthday. It was angry and crisp; if he closed his eyes, Klaus could see her beautiful face marked by the hard feelings no doubt pounding in her chest as she furiously typed those words. Caroline is so very transparent. 

If he says it didn't bring him a measure of vindication to know she was equally hurt, that would also be a lie.

She had no idea just how close he'd been all this time. There was one time he believes she might've seen him, the one time he got careless, came too close, desperately drawn by her scent and that of his daughter. But she likely dismissed it as a mere figment of her guilt-ridden imagination. In all honesty, the haze of the past three months sometimes feels like that to him as well. A mere illusion.

He noticed there was something odd going on, a disruption in Caroline's routine. Despite all the issues constantly surrounding the Mystic Falls gang, she'd found a way to remain away from the worst of it, protecting Eve. The rhythm of her days was almost peaceful, certainly the most harmonious and quiet she'd had ever since giving birth. And then something changed. It made Klaus unlawfully agitated that he couldn't understand what was going on. He didn't want to stay away long enough to find out, afraid that something might happen, but after a while he figured he didn't have a choice.

When he went back to his shelter and checked his phone, he heard Elijah's message about Elizabeth, and then he read her own.

_Elijah already knows so maybe you do, too, but I figured I should tell you either way. My mother is sick. Dying sick. I don't really know what to do. Eve misses you._

All of a sudden, everything made sense. The concern, the restlessness, the fear. How Eve was staying with babysitters more often than before. Klaus recognized it all for what it truly was: Caroline was unraveling at the edges, and suddenly the stab of guilt spoke louder than his resentment.

Klaus considered turning back immediately, but decided to try something else first. Anything he could think of. He went to every single witch and coven leader of use he could remember on the east coast, even took a small detour to see a centenary shaman in Georgia. Not all the bribes or the veiled threats to loved ones in this world were able to give him anything substantial. The answer was always the same: there is no magic cure to a mortal disease. Either modern medicine has a fix, or nothing does.

He almost didn't want to face Caroline empty-handed, but with his human head he could finally translate the edges he’d heard on her voice for what they were, could pick up on the barely leashed despair, and he knew he had to come either way. Elijah may be a sore pain in his arse, but that annoyingly condescending voice message of his was right in at least one aspect: he could not abandon Caroline out of pride in a time like this. Not when he himself has become such a close friend to the overwhelming grief of losing a loved one. He knows exactly how incapacitating this brand of helplessness is.

Now, he watches Caroline greedily as she eats away her frustrations. Not with lust, but rather a violent yearning. Her scent was all he could feel for so long, permeating his every irrational thought like a dream, and now that he's so close, he can't get enough of her. He takes her in, allowing his eyes to roam all over her figure, trying to identify all the tiny differences, all the nuance that his shapeless perception could not discern before, things he's missed out on for three months. Her hair is longer, he doesn't know the earrings she's wearing, but he does know the jacket and the blouse, remembers relieving her of both on occasion. He also knows the necklace around her neck. The moss agate he gave her the night of the Crescent ceremony. It makes his heart skip a hopeful beat that she's still wearing it, a feeling he quickly pushes away. It's not the time.

Caroline turns to him, then, perhaps sensing his persistent gaze. Her expression is not censuring, but rather tight, fierce and angry, and Klaus hides the sting carefully. For once, he realizes this is not about him and how he feels. Caroline's need to crash and burn takes precedence.

"Does Elijah know you're here?" she asks, her cheeks full and lips smeared with the chocolate she's still munching on.

"I ran into him outside. He seemed to be just arriving from somewhere."

She swallows. "Did he tell you where he was?"

"He very pointedly said that it was none of my business."

"And you left it at that?" she remarks with a certain hint of disbelief.

"Didn't seem like the appropriate time to push the matter further."

"So he didn't tell you where we were yesterday."

Klaus pauses, curiosity piquing. "No."

Caroline faces forward again, but not before he sees a flicker of bitter hurt in her eyes. "I killed a man," she grits out. Klaus eyebrows' snap together, lips parting wordlessly. "I refused to believe that vampire blood couldn't heal terminal cancer patients and against everyone's warnings, I decided to conduct an _experiment_ ," she continues, words tumbling out of her mouth as though they're coated on poison. "Ended a poor man's life. Elijah didn't say anything, was trying to be polite, but I'm sure he went back there to clean up my mess."

Klaus sighs. Caroline's disappointment in herself is quite glaring, maybe she even expects Klaus, from the top of his usual bitterness and merciless retaliations, to be the one to chastise her for it, to lash out at her hypocrisy or whatever she might be thinking. But her confession carries none of the weight she believes it does. "That's hardly reprehensible, love."

She snaps her face to him, the lines on her expression deep with self-loathing. "Did you hear the part about me killing a man who wasn’t given a choice in being my guinea pig?"

"Caroline, when it comes to cold murder, I'm something of an expert. Believe me when I say what you did is nothing like it. I doubt the man was in any shape to offer his thoughts on the matter, which tells me he was likely halfway gone already. And if that's the case, what's the difference? You gave him a glimmer of hope. I doubt he would've been against it."

She turns away again, shaking her head. "I expect that kind of pass from Elijah, not from you."

"What do you expect from me?"

"Right now, nothing. I didn’t even expect you to be here,” she says sharply. The heat of the blow lands full force. “But since you are, honesty, maybe. To tell me that I was trying to fix something I had no business trying to fix. I stole the only bit of dignity that man still had which was the right to a peaceful death."

"So you expect Elijah to serve you absolution, but me to serve you punishment? When have I ever been your executioner, Caroline?"

"Isn't that what you had been doing for the last three months? Pretending I don't exist because you're angry that I left," she spits out sternly, her eyes hard as stones when she turns back to him. “Or maybe not. Maybe you just got over it, realized I’m not worth it and found someone else to entertain you. Any new witches you’ve been shacking up with I should be concerned about? You know, just in case they decide to try to sacrifice my daughter again.”

Her accusation cuts right through him, anger-fueled pain spiking across his body like the crack of a whip.

“I wasn’t _shacking up_ with anyone,” he retorts, his cold tone hiding the fire simmering underneath it. “Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who left me?”

Caroline huffs out a weak, bitter laugh. “Well, I guess it’s my fault, then.”

Klaus mashes his lips together, eyes flickering away from her as he attempts to douse his flaming temper, the conversation veering into rocky shores he’d rather avoid for the time being. He didn’t come here to fight. Not right now, and not over this.

Instead, he attempts a conciliatory tone once more, steering them back to what truly matters.

"You're an eternal optimist," he speaks after a moment, his voice soft despite the edge he can’t quite scrape. "You always want to believe in the miracle. That anything is possible. That salvation and redemption can survive in the most barren and hostile of places. You didn't hurt that man out of selfishness, you were genuinely searching for a cure."

"A cure everyone told me didn't exist."

"I've always been quite certain of the limitations of vampire blood's healing properties, but even I cast all that certitude in doubt and tried to find a cure." Some of the hardness dissolves as her eyes widen at him, but the glimmer of hope he knows he’s about to crush is almost as brutal as the anger. "I made several stops on the way here after some people I knew from long ago. People I thought might’ve offered answers, if they existed."

She hesitates, and when she speaks, her voice sounds small. "And?"

Klaus meets her gaze again. "Unfortunately, there isn't one."

His chest tightens at the look on her face, her eyes filled with the most deep-rooted sadness. Klaus has to restrain himself not to reach out and fold her in a tight embrace, shield her from the gruesome set of emotions he sees rushing through her like thunder.

She doesn't give him much of an opportunity, though.

"Thanks for stopping by. Eve’s babysitter’s name is Natalie. She’s at my mother’s home, you’ve already been invited in," she says, her voice airy and strained as she stands to her feet and, without sparing him another glance, strides down the hospital corridor, her chocolate bars forgotten behind.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah watches from the window as Liz stirs out of her drug-induced sleep. She's been back in her room for over an hour after a long round of exams and tests, and is only now starting to come to.

He puts down his phone with a long sigh after yet another call goes straight to voicemail. Only this time it’s not Niklaus who isn’t answering; it’s Caroline. He's been calling her ever since her mother returned, but she is not picking up. In fact, Elijah is yet to see her this morning.

Niklaus has been in town for less than two full hours and already chaos has taken over. Must be a coincidence.

 _What did you do?_ he types a message to his brother.

It takes him a minute too long to respond. _Nothing._

 _Why do I find that hard to believe?_ he writes back. _Her mother is back in her room and she isn't picking up._

_I'll find her._

Elijah's brow creases lightly at that last message. What does it mean, _find her_? If Caroline isn't with Niklaus, and she's not with her mother, then where did she go? More importantly, why? It's not like her to walk out like this.

Liz rolls up in bed awkwardly, apparently trying to reach the water cup on the bedside table. In a flash, Elijah is there, taking the cup and helping her to the straw.

She winces a little at his sudden appearance before easing back against her pillows.

"Thank you," she says, her voice raspy and barely above a whisper. “But you shouldn’t do that to a sick person.”

"Forgive me,” he replies, putting the cup down and placing another pillow behind her. “Are you comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I could ever be."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like a human pin cushion."

The woman before him, so small and disgruntled, is a far cry from the woman he saw just the day before, at her house. Then, despite her obvious weariness, she'd been joyful and energized, happy to be home. Just being in this sterile place drains the life out of her. It is, however, a testament to the Forbes' resilience that even as exhausted and weak as she is, the light in her eyes remains ever intact, just as bright as ever. She has a completely different disposition from her daughter's, but it's easy to spot the many similarities they share - where Caroline got her strength and steadfast attitude from.

"So..." Liz starts again after a moment. "Have you heard the verdict?"

"Not yet. Your doctor - someone who answers by the very professional name of Jo. I assume she's an acquaintance?"

Liz nods. "Alaric's girlfriend. She’s a good doctor.”

"Well. She's still running some tests."

Liz tilts her head, twisting her lips. "You shouldn't lie to sick people, Elijah. It's bad karma."

He dips his head, eyes flickering to his feet as an embarrassed smile tugs at his lips. It's quite unbecoming, how he's suddenly made to feel like a little boy caught doing something naughty. "It is true they are still running tests."

"But?" Liz prods.

"Your disease is spreading faster than they'd anticipated," he says, the confession sour in his mouth. He compelled the initial observations out of the medical staff as soon as they brought Liz back to her room. They were still waiting on some more results, but those would hardly give them a different prognosis, only perhaps some more clarity. He didn’t think it was his place to deliver the news, but she has a right to know. Maybe hearing from her daughter that her time on earth has been cut short would be twice as painful. "I'm sorry."

She looks down at her lap, her face betraying no emotion but for the taught, downward line of her lips. "How's Caroline?" she asks, her first thought after taking a brief moment to digest the information.

"I believe she just went out to get some food."

Liz looks up at him again with a piercing look. "Elijah..." she admonishes.

"You're good at what you do, aren't you? I have world renowned poker faces," he says lightly, his lips tugging upward just a bit. "She's taken off. I don't know where to, she's not answering her phone. However... I have a feeling she's not alone."

"Elena?"

He shakes his head. "My brother has made a surprise appearance."

Liz blinks slowly at him. "Klaus? Klaus is here?"

"Arrived just a few hours ago."

"Wow... I feel like I should be doing something. Issuing a warning."

"Yes, it's always wise to sound the alarms whenever Niklaus marches into town. Run for the mountains, that kind of thing," he quips humorously. "But you would be surprised by how tame my brother can be around your daughter."

"I heard a very different song from Caroline. She tried to make it sound reasonable, but… Paranoia, violent outbursts, cruel revenge..." she lists with a clear reproach in her tone. "That doesn't seem at all tame to me."

"I suppose we did have some... _issues_ , if you will, with Niklaus' rather manic behavior over the last year or so," he concedes.

"I'm well aware. Caroline has told me everything. No offense, but after spending such a long time with your family, I'm afraid she was a little numbed to how extreme some of your brother's actions were. I drew my own conclusions."

Elijah regards her thoughtfully, mildly surprised at the sudden whim that rises in him to offer a defense of his brother. He hasn't felt charitable towards Niklaus in a while, let alone enough to stand up for his honor. Elijah is not even sure he has any. All the feeble dignity he does possess, however... Is mostly because of and for Caroline.

The good people of Mystic Falls have more than enough reason to doubt Niklaus' intentions and get antsy about his presence. But if there's one person Elijah believes has absolutely nothing to worry about, especially in a moment such as this, it's Liz Forbes. Not for herself, for her daughter or her granddaughter. They're the safest people on earth, where Niklaus' violent and volatile temperament is concerned. He would never dare to harm them, or deliberately stir anything that would put them in danger. Not now, anyway. Not on purpose. Of that Elijah is certain.

"My brother spent most of his life abhorring the idea of romantic love," Elijah starts. "Over the course of centuries and a couple of harsh disappointments, he came to think of it as a weakness, something to be weeded out and annihilated before it could be wielded against him. For ages, the people in his life were no more than indulgences - some more meaningful than others, I'm sure, but all equally disposable. Nothing he couldn't do without or that he'd sacrifice much for. Until your daughter crossed his path, that is." Liz shifts a little in her place, giving Elijah an assessing look, weighing out his words. So he plows on. "I must admit that it took me a while to grasp the true extent of his feelings for Caroline and fully realize that what I was looking at wasn't just an obsession or an extravagant challenge, but rather... Real love. And Niklaus' love... It's exceptional in every sense of the word, runs very deep, but it has as much bite as he does himself. He is the most powerful creature on earth, and you don't get to occupy that place without a good dose of brutality. He's not just a complicated man, my brother; he's also incredibly hard. On himself, on his family, on his enemies and friends alike. But he has a remarkably rare soft spot for Caroline. For something to truly get to him, break through the walls he spent centuries perfecting and lay root in his parched core the way his feelings for Caroline have... It's bound to have consequences."

"Are you saying that his love for my daughter makes him more dangerous?"

"In a sense, yes. Then again, aren't we all like that? Having something precious to lose makes reckless beasts out of the best of us. It's not necessarily a bad thing, wanting to protect something at all costs. My brother has a skewed sense of morality; his is, at best, absolutely arbitrary and ruled by his own selfish whims. What you must understand, however, is that everything he's done, however reproachable, and I will be the first to condemn him, was to protect Caroline." Elijah looks right into Liz' eyes; some of that concern and the fierce objection she demonstrated towards Niklaus clearly mollified by his words. "There isn't anything in this world he wouldn't do for her, or for their daughter," he adds. "To keep them safe. When faced with the real possibility of losing them both, he... Snapped. More so than usual. And in his frenzy of panic and fear, he went to the last resorts without a single care in the world, consequences be damned. There aren't many things he would fight that viciously for. Your daughter is one of them. I fault him for many things, but not for trying to save her. Whatever heart my brother has left, it is reserved entirely for her. And that, coming from Niklaus, is no small feat. I wasn't entirely sure he still had one at all before I met Caroline."

Liz puffs out a laugh, not in derision, but incredulity. "You make him sound like a knight in shiny armor."

Elijah grins. "More like the devil in a shiny disguise, I would say. He can be thick-headed and consumed with pride, as he's been for the past three months, but for her? Now? He'll do his best. We can have an entire discussion on how lacking in several aspects that is, but... You have no reason to fear. For now, anyway."

"That doesn't sound very reassuring."

"Let's just say, where my brother is concerned, the best I can be is cautiously optimistic. Besides, I have a feeling if I tried to lie to you, you would know, anyway."

Liz offers him a genuine smile, one that, for a moment, lights up her whole face. 

As bitter as he still feels towards Niklaus, he was being truthful. Not for his brother's sake, but for Caroline’s and Liz's. She has enough worry consuming her mind at the moment, doesn't need to be concerned over her friends and loved ones' safety upon the Big Bad Wolf's return. It is worth it, swallowing his own pride and hurt in order to soothe the heart of a sick mother. And it works, because she seems much more at ease than she was a minute ago.

"I hope you're right," she says at last. "I know Caroline cares a whole lot about him. She blames herself for not being able to do anything to cure me, thinks that if she hadn't been away for so long, she would've noticed something was wrong sooner. I tried to explain to her, time and time again, that there was nothing anyone could do, that I didn't have any symptoms, that the tumor is extremely aggressive... As always, she's too hard on herself. Nothing I say has been enough to ease that guilt away. I hope he can get to her."

"Don't worry," Elijah says, smiling softly at her. "If anyone can, it's him. She will come back."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Five minutes. That's how long it took him to react and chase after her. Five minutes he spent ruminating over every word, every deed, every twinge of guilt in his chest. Five minutes, and Caroline vanished.

A bitter little voice in his head tells him that’s no less than he deserves, but it’s a little voice and Klaus has never been sensible. Instead of simply accepting it in the name of respecting boundaries or some other similar foolishness, he goes on a dogged search for her.

Klaus scoured every single floor of that hospital. Every room, bathroom and _personnel only_ areas. He even went down to the morgue, thinking her experience with the deceased cancer patient might've left her in a morbid mood. Nothing. When Elijah texted, frustration was already starting to get the best of him. An impatient Klaus is not a very polite Klaus, which usually has all sorts of nasty consequences to the unsuspecting people getting in his way.

It didn't immediately occur to him that she would leave hospital premises, but that's exactly what she did. He didn't have to go far, though. Some of his senses are sharper than usual after months of relying mostly upon them, and he catches a faint trace of her perfume in the air before hearing her voice. Klaus finds her at the flower shop right next door, casually looking over arrangements like she’s had a sudden whim to go shopping.

"You're good at hide and seek," he says, fully expecting her to snap fire at him.

Instead, Caroline merely casts him a swift glance, her expression devoid of any emotion. "Good, you're here," she says, to Klaus' great astonishment.

He frowns. "Really?"

"I need a second opinion. I kind of like this because sunflowers are her favorite flowers, but at the same time, I was also thinking they're a little too over-the-top cheerful for a memorial service," she says lightly, as though she were deciding as mild a thing as what flavor of ice cream to take home. Her demeanor has none of the heat or the sting it had as they spoke just an hour before. It’s almost like she’s not seeing him anymore, but rather talking to a random acquaintance of no importance. He doesn’t know what to make of this polite aloofness, but he knows that’s not her. Makes him wish she would lash out again. At least then he’d know it was real.

Klaus follows as she starts to walk towards another arrangement. "This is my second option. Roses are classic, right? I mean, especially in this shade of pink. Obviously, I would change out the vase, but..."

Klaus feels a prick of emotion stabbing through him. He's by no means an expert when it comes to coping mechanisms; his are hardly recommended. Case in point, the past three months of his life, spent between alcohol, blood benders and a beast. Klaus' way of dealing with that which causes him pain is to hurt _more_ , like someone who sets himself on fire not to feel the ache of a broken bone.

Caroline's way of coping with things that she cannot control is to try and rein them back in. Find a way to stay in command, turn it into something she can compartmentalize. She sees something messy, she immediately wants to push order into it, make sense out of chaos. It's honestly a wonder she didn't try to turn him into one of her projects. Perhaps because she knew it would be a waste of her time. Or perhaps because she doesn't see the need to set anything straight; she already understands his chaos, even better than he does himself.

Seeing her try to detach herself from her mother's impending death in order to avoid the pain... It breaks his heart. After everything she's been through, Klaus firmly believes there is no storm Caroline Forbes cannot weather. She's resilient and strong, far stronger than even she knows. But this... Losing her connection to her mortal life... That, she is not ready to let go of yet. And trying to avoid it will only make it worse once the inevitable force of the fact hits.

She turns to him then, her lips twisting when she reads something on his expression she doesn't like. "If you're thinking about saying something to make me feel better, don't."

"I wasn't," he lies.

"Good. Don't."

"I was just thinking that you have more important things to do than plan a memorial service for your mother, who's still alive, by the way."

Caroline's jaw clenches, a raw emotion flashing across her eyes as she continues to analyze the vase in front of her with more purpose than the bland piece warrants, pointedly not looking at him. "Yeah, well. All of this still needs to be done. She's not gonna want to live out the rest of her life worried about what her _after_ life is going to be like, so I should do something I'm actually good at instead of making everything worse." She snaps her gaze back at him, sharp as a blade. "Which arrangement?"

Klaus sighs, munching on his next words. "Listen, love... I'm not good at this, as you well know."

"Then _don't_ ," she grits out.

"Somebody has to, and if you're going to hate someone for this, then it might as well be me. You already do, anyway,” he counters, capturing her gaze and forcing her to keep it level with his. Caroline glares at him with cobalt eyes like glowing embers, her lips pressed tightly together. For a second, he believes she might assault him, but instead of concern, it brings him relief. He's glad to see her real feelings bleed out, even if this will leave him in murkier waters than before. "You took a risk, Caroline. What you did to that dying man, which you're so recriminating yourself for, didn't pay out, but you did it out of love. Sometimes, when it feels as though you're being punished for it, it makes no difference, but it _is_ different. I should know." Caroline's expression softens somewhat and she swallows, hard, eyes flickering away from his. He didn't mean to take a jab at her, but he cannot help the barb of his own words. Try as he might to shove it away, it's there, the bitter hurt, the abandonment, punching into his flesh with every beat of his heart. 

Klaus takes a step closer, putting a finger under her chin to lift her face. "But you're not me, sweetheart," he says softly. "And you can't bury your head in the sand in a cloud of bourbon and wait for things to blow over. A word of advice... It doesn't."

She holds herself steady as a rush of emotions flash through her, and then she lets out a quivery breath. "She's so weak and I can't... I can't pretend that it's not killing me. She needs me to be better than this and right now all I do is fail her. I don't... I don't know what to say to her," she confesses in a small voice.

"You’re not failing her, Caroline. And you don't have to say anything. Just sit with her. Give her your time. It's the most abundant thing in the world for creatures like us, and yet the most precious one. It never feels enough. Not for what really matters. If you run now, you'll regret it for the rest of eternity. Trust me... It's unpleasant and corrosive and not something I wish for you. What your mother needs right now is not the crudeness of reality. That she already has. What she needs is one of her daughter's most unique qualities. Your unshakable belief, Caroline. You don’t give up, ever. That’s all she needs from you, your spirit.”

The whirlwind behind her irises subside somewhat, her eyes bright with unshed tears and - the part that gets Klaus' heart to skip a beat - warmth. She attempts a small smile, the best she can with her pinched expression. When her hand closes around his, a tight squeeze followed by a soft caress of her thumb, a tingle runs up his arm, spreading through his entire body with an energy - a _liveliness_ \- he hadn't felt in months.

She nods her head once at him, then turns around and walks out of the shop.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline follows with rapt attention as her mother's chest goes up and down, up and down... Her heart beating to a gentle but steady rhythm as she sleeps.

Liz had headaches, Elijah said, and the doctors pushed some medicine into her IV that made her sleepy. If there was a way for Caroline to feel even guiltier, losing her mother's brief stints of wakefulness while she gets treated is the way to go.

Caroline wants penitence. She wants to be called out, and she wants to do better, she wants to be a good daughter and a good mother. She wants anything but this hospital, this sterile smell that clings to her skin and this overwhelming feeling of failure wrecking through her.

She loses track of time as she sits by Liz’s side, trying to find solace in her constant breathing. She's still alive, Caroline tells herself. There's still time. And, for now, at least, she's not in any pain.

When Liz starts to come to, Caroline sits up straighter. She holds her breath until her mother's eyes focus and her face smooths with recognition, dry lips slowly drawing into a smile.

"Hello, stranger," Liz breathes out.

Caroline takes the water cup and leads the straw up to her mother’s mouth. "Hi," she replies lowly.

"Are you ok?"

Caroline puts the cup down. "I'm the one who should be asking you that."

"I'm your mother. You know what that means now."

Caroline exhales slowly. "I've been sitting here trying to figure out what to say. I guess I should lead with I'm sorry for leaving your side today. I'm sorry that I wasn't here, I couldn't and -" her voice breaks off as the tears well up in her eyes.

"No, no, no, honey," Liz says, taking her hand. "You've been by my side every second since I fell ill, Caroline. None of this is your fault. I need you to stop beating yourself up. Can you do that for me?"

"No."

Liz tilts her head. "Caroline..."

She shakes her head, wiping the tears away with her fingers. "I can try, that's my best offer."

"Can you at least say it like you mean it?"

Caroline's lips finally curl into a genuine smile. There's nothing her mother would ask of her in that sweet voice that Caroline would say no to. Not even the impossible. "I'll try," she repeats.

"Thank you. And I promise I will stick around, with you and Evie, for as long as I can, ok?" Caroline nods, trying to hold back the new hot streak of tears. "Come here."

When her mother opens her arms, Caroline shifts on the bed so she can lie beside her, resting her head on her chest. It doesn't matter how old or how powerful she gets, she never ceases to feel like a little girl next to her mom. Liz places a warm kiss on her forehead, her delicate fingers combing through her daughter's hair. She closes her eyes, breathing her mother in, trying to imagine living in a world where she won't be able to get the comfort of her hugs anymore.

"Uhm, sweetie," her mother speaks after a moment. "I think you have a visitor."

Caroline cranes her head to see Klaus hovering by the door, looking oddly demure. She sits up again, and finds herself smiling. She's still mad at him, with at least a billion things she wants to berate him for, but seeing his face today was a bit like a reality check. She was about to lose it, break under the strain, and suddenly Klaus was there just to take her hand and guide her back to safety.

She doesn't even know how he did it, to be frank, why his voice was able to reach the left side of reason in her brain. But it was like a cool towel on a fevered mind, soothing and steadying at the same time. The desperate voice in her head that told her to flee went quiet, replaced by another, with an awfully familiar accent, that said _Stay calm. It'll be alright. You'll be alright_. Everything inside of Caroline went still, and then settled.

Seeing him in her mother's room sends a ripple of anxiety across her, but it also stirs something warm and serene. And she decides not to fight it, not to question it, leave their unfinished businesses to be straightened out later, not in her mother's presence. Right now, she's just grateful that he's here. If not for her own sake, then for her mom's, who needs her daughter at her sharpest, not having complete mental breakdowns out there, and for Eve's, who hasn't seen her father in three months.

"Well, don't just stand there like a creep," she says, beckoning him in. "Come here, let me introduce you to my mother."

Hesitating a bit longer, Klaus finally obliges, his dimples making a shy appearance. "I believe we've already met."

"No, you didn’t. The person she met was Klaus, the psychopath. Mom," Caroline turns back to Liz. "This is Klaus... Eve's father."

Liz fixes Klaus under a probing, _sheriffy_ look before a smile finally graces her face. "It's a pleasure to finally meet my granddaughter's father," she says. "She has your eyes."

Klaus' gaze flickers away from Liz, down. Caroline puffs out a disbelieved laugh. "Klaus Mikaelson, _shy_ in front of the sheriff. Now I've definitely seen everything." He gives her a strange look, and Caroline's pretty sure it’s the closest thing to a blush anyone will ever see on him. She can't help the way her lips tug upwards that tiny bit more. "You used to flirt with everything that moved at the Founders' events. Please, tell me you didn't flirt with my mom. That would be awkward."

Klaus widens his eyes in mild preoccupation, probably racking his brain after memories he’d discarded long ago. Before he can reply, however, Liz says, “Don’t worry, sweetie. I wasn’t one of his targets.”

The way the word _target_ comes out of her mother's mouth doesn't escape Caroline, but she decides not to discuss it.

"What is it that you've got there?" she asks, nodding to the cup in Klaus’ hand.

He hands it to her, visibly glad for the distraction. "I was told you had some qualms with a broken coffee machine."

She snatches the cup away with a gasp, humming appreciatively when she sips from the coffee - with cream and sugar, just the way she likes it - before narrowing her eyes at him. "Did you threaten hospital staff?"

"Will I get in trouble if I did?"

"Hell, no. I'm willing to sell my principles for a coffee right now."

"That smells amazing," her mother says, batting her eyelashes at Caroline. "I would give a million dollars for a decaf latte... Would you mind getting one for your poor, sick mom?"

She rolls her eyes as she stands up, smiling. "You don't have to be so dramatic. I'll be right back."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The sliver of a smile Caroline flashes him before she breezes out of the room sends a rush down Klaus' spine and he wants, quite urgently, to kiss her. He wants to kiss her more or less all the time, but the impulse in that moment is almost overwhelming as the ache of missing her strikes him with vicious intensity.

The heat turns to cold in a blink, though, as he looks back at Liz and finds her studying him with hawk eyes and an expression he can't quite decipher. She has a knowing grin curling her lips just so, but her eyes are sharp as a predator's. Gone is the poor, sick mother; in is the cunning sheriff. The same person Klaus, the psychopath, met all those years ago.

"Subtle," he says with a smirk. Klaus has the distinctive sensation that he's about to get tested. "And quite intriguing. People will usually do anything to avoid being left alone with me."

"I wish my daughter had felt that way.” Her tone is soft, but her words are biting, and maybe entirely honest on her part.

“Well, it’s a bit late for that.”

“I had been looking forward to this moment, actually. I was starting to think I'd die before you came after her," she says. He can hear the clear reproach under her velvety voice. Why is it that he feels like a boy about to get chastised for misbehaving? "Thank you for... Whatever it is you said to her today."

"I merely told her the truth."

Liz nods, munching on her lower lip for a second. "Elijah is a nice guy. I was impressed when I met him, even more so the second time around. I didn't think an Original could be so..."

"Gallant? Gilded? Civilized?" he provides bitterly. "Yes. My brother tends to warm hearts wherever he goes."

"Unlike you."

"I won't pretend that does not sting, but I suppose I can't argue. He hides his fangs better than most."

Liz draws a long, faulty breath in. "I don't have a lot of time left, so let's just be real. I don't like you, Klaus."

He arches his eyebrows at her, mildly taken aback by her abrupt confession. Not that he expected Caroline's mother to be a fan, given his history with her town, but he thought they'd at least do the whole diplomatic dance for the sake of their daughters. Apparently, she's not interested in bland politeness.

"When I heard from Caroline that you were Eve's father..." she continues. "Well, I thought she was pranking me. That she'd said the worst name she could think of so whoever the real father turned out to be, it wouldn't seem so bad in comparison."

"I suppose the appropriate word right now would be _ouch_."

Liz's eyes flash with unmasked hostility. "I was the one who had to forge Carol Lockwood's death certificate to make it seem like she'd suffered an undignified drunk accident when, in truth, she was murdered." Klaus mashes his lips together into a displeased pout, old guilt clenching in his chest.

Bloody Carol Lockwood. The woman was so plain he never even looked her way twice, wouldn't even have noticed her presence if he hadn't been as consumed with rage as he was. Klaus was rabid that night, his need to _destroy_ singing through his veins like hot lava. Truth be told, he didn't give the matter a long thought before pushing her head into that fountain and holding her down until she stopped thrashing, merely allowing for his most bestial instincts to take over. It did bring him a sense of satisfaction, but it was awfully short-lived. Morning and sobriety brought him the harsh realization that he'd maybe gone over a dangerous line when he killed the mayor, for one single reason: Caroline. 

His insides coiled with anxiety when he thought about her, the disgust he was certain to see in her eyes when she looked at him next, just when they were finally making progress. And all because of that low-life wretched boyfriend of hers who had been _cheating_ on her with that duplicitous werewolf.

Not that he cares about any of that anymore, or has any lingering remorse over Carol's death. Whatever he felt back then is long gone. The Mayor never meant anything to him other than a measly means to an end. But suddenly that old _minor_ transgression rises its ugly head once more to haunt him.

Are these people never getting over that?

"Miranda Gilbert was my best friend,” she adds after a moment.

"Are we just randomly assigning the blame on everything that’s ever happened in this town’s history to me now? Despite my reputation, sheriff, I had nothing to do with that one."

"No. But you killed her little sister, Jenna. Elena and Jeremy's legal guardian after they were _orphaned_. And this is not mentioning what you tried to do to her daughter, a girl who grew up with Caroline since they were babies."

Klaus lets out a frustrated breath, an unfamiliar blend of annoyance and not-quite-shame, but perhaps a ping of admission, of knowing he can't contest her, spiking in his system. "Anything else you'd like to mention or are we quite done listing my terrible crimes?"

"You're not a fan of accountability, are you?"

"What do you want from me?" he questions with a snap, trying his best to hold down the flare of temper. "To hear that I'm sorry? I don't think that's going to make you feel any better, and, let's face it, it won't bring anyone back. So what's the point?"

Liz shakes her head slowly, her demanding eyes and perfectly collected composure never wavering. That woman could give Elijah a run for his money. "No, I don't want you to apologize, neither do I expect you to. I know you wouldn't mean it, anyway. I have the hardest time trying to reconcile the terrible memories I have of your time in Mystic Falls to the person Caroline speaks so fondly of. Even the parts she clearly disapproves of, the bits where she's angry or disappointed, she always has this tenderness to the way she talks about you. I can't believe those are the same men." He opens his mouth to retort, but she lifts a hand to stop him. "I don't like you, Klaus, but I don't have to. Caroline tells me you're a good father, that you took care of her through some truly horrifying times, I can't even..." She trails off, snapping her mouth shut and shaking her head against the sudden emotion. "What happened to her is a mother's worst nightmare. You were there for her, unconditionally. And your brother, who obviously knows you better than I do, assured me that you would do anything to protect my daughter."

"I would. I have," he says, not missing a beat despite his astonishment that Elijah did - what? Defend his honor to Caroline's mother? Now there is something thoroughly unexpected, even more so than the berating he's getting from her. He wonders what else they talked about.

His confirmation seems to make her a tad more relaxed. "When I first heard of what happened to her while she was away... I was _so_ mad at all of you, how entitled you felt to compel an entire city into leaving her be while she was pregnant, scared, in a strange city, surrounded by strange people who wanted her dead. But I also know my daughter, how fiercely protective she is of the people she loves and how headstrong she can be. I know it was her decision, after all, to stay in New Orleans until... Well, until you screwed up."

"If you're waiting for an apology, sheriff, you're in for another disappointment," he says, unfazed by her reproach. "I'm not sorry. I saved her life and I would do it all over again."

"Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

Klaus blinks slowly at her, confused.

"I wish I had enough time to get to know this other side of yours that Caroline speaks so highly of, but unfortunately, time is the one thing I don’t have anymore. But the point is... I don't have to like you, Klaus, because my daughter does. She's always had a thing for the bad boys, the ones with a _temper_. Granted, I think..." she motions her hand vaguely towards him. "A little extreme."

"Shower me with compliments, why don't you?" he deadpans.

"The thing is, Caroline has always remained moral and _good_ , no matter who her heart beats for. It never changed who she truly is. She's usually the one to change the others."

"Well..." Klaus' lips' curl imperceptibly. "Can't say you're wrong on that one."

"I trust Caroline more than anything in this world. She wouldn't care for you as much as she does if you were _complete_ trash, so... There has to be something about you."

"Sheriff, please. You're going to make me blush."

Liz chuckles, her whole face lighting up all of a sudden, dissolving some of that gauntness and frailty, revealing the beautiful, spirited woman the disease has been eating away at. "The sense of humor, at least, I can appreciate," she says. "Reminds me of Damon."

"Well, now I am truly offended."

She laughs, and then her laugh turns into a nasty cough. Klaus takes her water cup to her, helping her to a sitting position while she has a few sips. When the coughing subsides, she eases herself back against her pillows with a scratchy _Thank you_.

"You know..." she starts again after a moment, capturing his eyes. "Regardless of the insanity of the whole thing, I suppose I have to thank you for the most precious gift I've ever gotten." A slow smile spreads on her lips until she's nearly beaming. "Eve is... A joy. She reminds me so much of Caroline when she was that age... It takes me right back. And I am so happy that I got to spend time with my granddaughter, that I had the chance to be a grandma before I go. Seeing Caroline with her own daughter... It has truly been the best feeling I've ever had."

Klaus matches her earnest smile with one of his own. "Well... Seems like we have something in common, after all. Eve is the best thing I've ever done. Perhaps the only truthfully, fundamentally good thing I have ever done in my whole life. I never fancied being a father, but Caroline has made one out of me. Commanded one out of me, more accurately. I'm not sure anyone else would've managed. Our daughter is... perfection, if I've ever seen it." He pauses, shrugging. "But for her progenitor, apparently."

"You don't have to say what you think I want to hear to try and win me over. Humility is not your style."

"I'm not entirely sure what the etiquette for a moment such as this is, but you _are_ Caroline's mother. She would have me whipped for disrespecting you."

"You're not being disrespectful. And I am very good at reading people, even - and this might come as a surprise to you - ancient vampires," she says with a cocked eyebrow. "I appreciate honesty."

"Well, if it's candor you want... Allow me to thank you, sheriff, for the most precious gift _I've_ ever gotten. I understand we'll never be friends - I have a history with this town I'm not entirely sorry for, and I've never had my brother's flair for diplomacy. Besides... I don't really make friends." He punctuates his remark with a close-lipped grin, which Liz returns. "But I have always admired you. Since the very first time we met, in fact. You invited Klaus, the psychopath, into your house to heal your daughter -"

"After you ordered Tyler to hurt her," she remarks with a glare.

"For that I can most certainly say that I am _truly_ sorry. I was sorry even then. She was a collateral effect of my famed temper, but I didn't mean for her to die. I never did." Liz examines him with a piercing stare, and seems sufficiently convinced of his honesty. And so, he goes on. "You looked me in the eye with a threat as you allowed me in that night. You made a choice to trust me, but you were also saying _I will murder you if anything happens to her_ , and I never doubted that you would, even if the odds were against you. Motivation, I've come to learn, can often trump muscle power. That night, I realized there was something quite unique about the Forbes women. Caroline had that same determined glint in her eyes, even as she lay dying.”

Klaus feels some of that tension he's had cluttering his chest easing off as he talks about Caroline, his entire system flooded with familiar tenderness. "She was never afraid of me. Of looking me in the eye and giving me her unfiltered strong opinions," he says. "Not always pleasant, I admit. I don't take critique very well, but Caroline... Fascinated me. Her spirit, her courage, her cleverness. And even now... I can see her in you. I hope nothing more than for Eve to take after her mother in every aspect - well, I wouldn't mind if she had my taste for art and my sense of humor, but in everything else... And I imagine that taking after Caroline, means taking after you. I’ve no doubt that Eve will be a Mikaelson, proud and mighty as the rest of us, but she is, first and foremost, a Forbes girl. You raised a formidable woman, Elizabeth Forbes. In a thousand years, I haven't found many like Caroline. She is..."

"Special," Liz finishes for him, a proud smile gracing her features. “You don’t need to live a thousand years to know my daughter is… Extraordinary.”

“Indeed.” Klaus smiles back at her. "I don't say it enough, not to her, not to anyone else, but I do love her very much. And I suppose I have you to thank for that."

The woman is quiet for a moment. When she smiles again, it's open and wide, that obvious resistance she built against him melting away. "Caroline also told me you could talk your way out of hell," she teases.

"I'm a man of many devious talents," he says with a shrug. "Does that mean I've scored points?"

Liz considers him studiously. "She said it was your idea to name your daughter Eve _Elizabeth_."

"After two formidable women."

She chuckles again before offering the verdict. "Yes, you've scored some tiny points." Klaus laughs whole-heartedly, the sound alien even to himself after such a long time.

Liz makes a humming sound, squinting at him. "It's the smile," she notes after a moment. "You don't look so bad when you're smiling."

He shapes it into a lazy smirk. "I've been told I'm the devil in disguise," he says, a sneer in his voice.

"I've been told you're that, too."

The companionable pause that follows, offering Klaus some hopeful reprieve, is short-lived. In a heartbeat, the mood shifts. Liz' relaxed stance hardens into a tension she was yet to exhibit, her face clouding as her eyes darken. He's about to ask if she's feeling something, whether he should call someone, when she says, in a solemn, but sharp tone, "I need you to promise me something, Klaus. I'm trusting you with the most important thing in the world to me. Just as your daughter is the best thing you've ever done, so is Caroline to me. And when I'm gone... She will need you more than ever. She'll need someone to help her move on with her life, to keep her from beating herself up with a guilt that is not hers to carry, someone to... Make her feel loved and safe. To make her smile. Promise me that you will do that, Klaus. That you won't run and you won't hide from her for months on end. Promise that you will be there for her and for your kid." Liz reaches out, clasping one of his hands between hers, the gesture startling in its intimacy. "Promise me," she repeats. For the first time, she sounds less than certain, her voice pleading rather than commanding, vulnerable.

Klaus looks at her with wide eyes, a knot forming in his stomach. It's not the responsibility that leaves him on edge; that he had already embraced a long time ago. It's the implications there, the full realization of what this moment truly means. Caroline's mother is dying. It'll devastate her completely, leave her heart in shreds. And in her deathbed, in spite of everything he's done, of all the pain he's caused to people she cared about, of the fact his family brought so much disgrace to her daughter's life, Elizabeth Forbes is choosing to trust him. Again, just as she did on that night all those years ago, when the first glimpses of Caroline's light broke through his carefully constructed shroud of darkness, leaving an imprint he was never able to erase, not even when he wanted to.

Liz could've asked this of anyone - of Elena, who's her oldest friend, or the Salvatores, who she's so close with, or even Elijah, who she’s clearly taken a liking to; but she's asking him.

She must know, he thinks, just by looking at him, how deep his love for her daughter runs. Regardless of the world that divides them, that one defining aspect unites them in the most unfathomable of ways. Life is ironic and inexplicable like that sometimes.

Klaus covers her hands with his free one, looking her dead in the eye, and says, "You have my word."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL! 😂 Klaus finally met his in-law! What did you guys think of his return to Mystic Falls and his encounter with Liz? I'm also very interested to know how you guys think this rewriting of S6 is going. I'm borrowing lots of moments from the show (Steroline 🤮), but I am trying to change everything, whilst keeping the plot intact. Hope you're enjoying it. :)
> 
> And if you think things got resolved too soon, don't worry. They didn't. This was just a little break for the sake of circumstances. KC have a lot of road to travel ahead of them before they're truly ok.
> 
> Regarding that part where Klaus mentions the time Tyler bit Caroline, because I know some people might wonder: Caroline was a witch, so she wasn't dying from wolf venom, but what Klaus ordered Tyler to do was to hurt Caroline and leave her bleeding at her home, without healing her. So she was dying from the wound, bleeding out fast, and Klaus was there very quickly, before anyone could take her to the hospital. Liz allowed him in because she knew they might not have enough time to get her there. Klaus was her best shot.
> 
>  **And now I have a question!** I have a few outtakes for this story and also TW1 and I have plans (which I can't promise that will be fulfilled, but they are plans) of writing some more once this fic is over. I'm considering posting them here on AO3 as **The Wolf Outtakes** , but I'd be interested to know if anyone can even take more of this universe. lol So my question is: is anybody interested in reading these outtakes? If you are, please let me know. :)
> 
> Thank you very much for reading and I wish you all a Happy New Year! May 2021 be kinder on all of you than 2020, bringing you health, joy and a vaccine! ✨


	25. S02E25 The Day I Tried to Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everyone! ✨ Here's to the first update of 2021. :) 
> 
> Thank you so, so much to all of you for your amazing feedback on the last chapter! It definitely made my last few days of 2020 a lot brighter! 💖 And a special thanks to everyone who voted for The Wolf 2 on the **KC Awards**. This is now an award winning fic! 🥳 This is such an honor, you guys. 🥰 I'm so happy!! 
> 
> As always, I really hope you enjoy the update and, if you do, please drop me a note and let me know your feelings! This chapter has one of my favorite scenes in the whole story and I am DYING to know if you guys will like it. 🤣 Also, if you're wondering, there are no major trigger warnings for this chapter. 
> 
> Cheers and happy reading!

* * *

Voices travel out of the house, all the way to Klaus' ears, before he's even crossed the driveway in front of the Salvatore Boarding House.

"Why would we give a letter to Jo?" he hears Elena say in that shrill, demanding tone of hers that took him so close to snatching out her tongue on more than one occasion.

Klaus is long past his hard feelings towards Mystic Falls' band of misfits and mongrels, life having reminded him how those scheming teenagers were really never more than cockroaches under his boots, but he still finds himself annoyed. It's almost inevitable. In the scale of doppelgangers, he'd say Elena definitely reigns as the most insufferable of them all. He'd take Katerina trying to one-up him any day over the abnegated martyr. At least she was clever.

"I haven't been able to find her using a locator spell, and, you know, good on her, because under normal circumstances I'd be super jazzed to gouge out her belly button," responds an unfamiliar male voice.

Klaus stops. The gouging out belly buttons part has him suddenly interested. He prowls closer to the house, walking towards the back door, where the voices seem to be coming from, now paying close attention.

"Why would we help you, Kai?" Damon speaks this time, that detestable little wanker. Just hearing his voice makes Klaus want to snap his neck to shut him up.

 _Kai._ He remembers that name from one of Caroline's messages. Someone who was causing some kind of trouble in Mystic Falls, if he's not mistaken. Her messages got rather vague and waspish after a while, once his resounding silence had taken a toll on her.

"Well, in case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm a sociopath. I know. Shocker," _Kai_ replies. Klaus arches his eyebrows approvingly. "I _like_ being a sociopath. I'm not burdened by things like _guilt_ or _love_. So, then this merge happened with my brother Luke, and I won, which was great, because I absorbed his ability to do magic, but now I can't stop thinking about how Luke died... How Liv's life is now ruined." The man's voice visibly thickens with emotion. "For some horrible reason, I can't shake how badly I feel about it."

A remorseful sociopath. How quaint.

The merge part, though. Caroline did write about the Gemini Coven and how they'd been involved in Bonnie Bennett's disappearance. It was one of the first messages she sent, before she grew too angry for nuance. So this Kai must be a part of the coven, as was poor dead Luke, and Liv, whose life is ruined. Klaus rakes his memory after anything of relevance he might know on that coven. It's unfortunately not much. Though famous for their syphoning powers, prison worlds and nearly barbaric traditions, they're a very reclusive group. Don't really mingle with those out of their circle; when they do, it's never for good reasons.

"You feel _bad_?" Elena repeats, all disbelief.

"I know! It's insane, right? When I absorbed Luke's magic, I must've gotten some of his qualities or something. Like... _Empathy_. So I googled how to process emotional pain and they said you write everything down in a letter and burn it, then you'll be healed. So I started writing, and this _water_ literally started pooling in my eyes. Has this ever happened to you? Like... Like _water_ , just... Oozing out of my eyeballs like I'm some alien creature excreting fluids."

"You mean you cried," Elena says slowly.

"Yes! And after that was done, I burned the letter, and the feelings... Oops! Still there."

Klaus huffs out a sneering laugh to himself. He heard the same bollocks from Camille during their early _sessions,_ back when she was still under the misguided impression that Klaus was after _healing_. 

_"How is burning a bloody letter supposed to help me?"_ , he asked then. _"It's a way to sublimate your feelings. You'll pour it all out and confront them. The burning is just a metaphorical way to process it,"_ was her explanation. _"Yes, setting fire to a piece of paper will make Marcel stop plotting against me, my siblings stop trying to stab me in the back and Caroline to suddenly fall into my arms. I assume setting fire to the entire house might send a more emphatic message, though, so why not try that instead?_ "

Needless to say, Camille was not impressed. Simply gathered her belongings and left.

He makes a mental note to tell her that he's not the only one who didn't find that ludicrous suggestion useful in the least. Or perhaps it just doesn't work for those of them in the sociopathy spectrum.

"So I really feel strongly that Jo needs to know how sorry I am for destroying our family," Kai wraps up his sad tale.

Klaus decides he wants to meet this lovely fellow.

"Ahh, isn't it just the worst when that happens?" he questions around a dramatic sigh as he enters the house, finding Elena, Damon and the young man, Kai, in the mansion's kitchen. All heads snap towards him at once. "I should know," Klaus continues, turning to Kai, who's eyeing him curiously. "Been there, done that, mate. Feelings... Such an inconvenience.”

"Klaus," Elena grits out, clenching her fists tightly next to her body.

Damon takes a step forward, putting himself valiantly between Klaus and the doppelganger. "What the hell is this now? Support group for psychos?"

"I couldn't help but overhear your friend's -"

"Not our friend," Elena interrupts.

"Sad story," he finishes. "You know, mate, I can totally relate.”

The man blinks suspiciously at him. "You can?"

"Absolutely. It is so much easier not to care, and then your inconvenient siblings start making you feel bloody _sorry_ for things that you were completely within your right to do. I mean, life's but choices, is it not? Spoils of war are there for the taking. Why should we, powerful creatures, ever refrain from getting what we want or leave it in the hands of incompetents just to satisfy others' delicate sensibilities?"

Kai's eyes widen in marvel. "That's _exactly_ what I've always said!"

"Oh, cute. They're bonding," Damon derides.

"Who are you again?" Kai asks him, but Damon jumps ahead to answer.

"Your predecessor," he says with a snap. "The sociopath who used to be a pain in our asses before you came along." He turns to Klaus, then. "I thought we got rid of you, for _good_."

Klaus' lips draw into a predatory smirk. "I thought you knew no one's ever gotten rid of me. I'm the one who tires of others."

"Uhm, excuse me, fancy-accent person?" Kai cuts in. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Let me do the honors," Damon, annoyingly show-off as he is, takes a step forward. "Klaus, this is our newest crazy evil villain, Kai. Kai, this is the evil villain who used to live in sin with twelve hybrids across town a couple of years ago, Klaus. Now that introductions are made, could you take this somewhere else? Maybe to a psych ward or, I don't know, hell? Whichever will take you."

"Wait -" Kai says, jumping to his feet. "Klaus? As in, Mikaelson? The _Original_ Klaus Mikaelson?"

Klaus' smile grows triumphant. "Oh, so you've heard of me. My reputation precedes me, indeed."

"Dude... I'm a fan. I mean, your list of genocides... _Epic_."

"All right, let me stop this evil jerk off right there." Damon stands between the two of them, and then turns to Kai. "You are going to be disappointed to learn that your hero is now a semi-reformed daddy."

"A father, yes. Reformed?" Klaus purses his lips. "Debatable."

Damon turns to him with a scowl. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

"I happen to be looking for Caroline and was informed that she would be here.”

"Uhm..." Elena steps forward. "She's in the living room, setting up Bonnie's birthday party."

"Oh? I was under the assumption that the Bennett witch was absent."

"She is," Elena hisses, glaring at Kai.

"Stop, ok?" he protests, facing away from her. "I already have enough to deal with feeling bad for my siblings, don't make me feel sorry for anyone else. I need to take this one person at a time."

Klaus sighs. "If I made a pound every time that exact thought crossed my mind..."

"You'd be living in extreme poverty, because you don't really care," Damon offers with a sly little smile.

"That’s probably mostly true. But you know what they say..." Klaus' lips pull into a crooked grin. "It takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

Kai laughs, thoroughly amused by his remark, which earns him stern gazes from the other two. "Sorry, but he’s right, dude. You're not better than us. But hey -" he shifts his apparently very short attention-span back to Klaus. "So, Caroline's... _thing_... Is that yours?"

Klaus' lips twist into a frown. "It's called a child."

"But... how? I mean - you're a vampire. And... Isn't she one as well?"

"Show some respect, will you? I'm the Original hybrid. And she used to be a witch."

Kai shakes his head, eyebrows slashed together. "That is so very confusing... But maybe I should speak to her, then. Clearly, she must've seen something in you, if she had your - child, whatever. She'll know how I can acquit myself to my siblings."

"Yeah, I can answer that for you,” Damon snorts. “She was drunk out of her ass. End of story.”

Klaus' eyes flash dangerously as he takes a step closer to Kai. "I think not, _mate_. No offense, I'm sure you're a delightful company for a few drinks, but you just said it yourself, you're a sociopath. Do us both a favor and stay away from Caroline, yes? And just for the record," he faces Damon, flashing him a grin. "No one was drunk."

Klaus breezes past them, heading after Caroline.

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"Mom, I'm not calling to check up on you, ok? I'm just about to start making Bonnie's birthday cake and I want to make sure your recipe called for three eggs instead of four," Caroline says around an eyeroll, not even a tiny prick of dignity as she centers the already baked and frosted cake saying _'Happy birthday, Bonnie!'_ on the table.

Liz' chuckle says she doesn't buy it for a second, but she indulges Caroline anyway. "It's three eggs."

"Thank you. And remember, I'm just one phone call away if you need any -"

"I know, sweetie. Have fun with your friends! Bye!"

Before Caroline has even said bye, Liz has already hung up. Her mother basically booted her out of the house to go help Elena throw together a little celebration for Bonnie's birthday. Caroline was all for it, of course; she was just... Not all there for leaving her mom's side.

Liz has been feeling much better since leaving the hospital and the new medication seemed to be working, but still. It took Elijah promising to keep her company - and call if anything, _anything_ at all, even a minor coughing or a little headache, happened.

Although putting her mind to something that is not at all related to her mother's illness for a change felt good, even if the fact the birthday girl is notoriously absent makes it all taste a little sour, Caroline can't help her nerves. It's hard to disconnect from this fear that has been lodged in her chest for weeks now. Event planning is one of her favorite things in the world, and something she hasn't done in _ages_ , and she may have taken Elena's innocent suggestion for a little get together with Bonnie's favorite cake and some margaritas to toast in her honor and blown it completely out of proportion into an actual full-on party with balloons and a decorated table and Stefan being sent out on a quest for cocktail umbrellas, but her mother is never far from her thoughts. Caroline calls home whenever she can come up with a decent enough excuse. She's used Eve (twice), the clothes she left (on purpose) in the dryer and now the cake recipe she's had committed to memory since she was 13.

"You need to hone your lying skills, love," she hears the sneer in the accented voice and lets out a dejected sigh, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. "I could give you some lessons, if you like."

And then there's Klaus.

The same thing inside Caroline that seemed to wriggle and clench while she was away from him, wriggles and clenches now that he’s near again.

Not that Caroline doesn't _like_ that he's here, she just... Hasn't really made up her mind on the matter yet.

On the one hand, she can't really help how her heart skips a beat every time he shows up, or how grateful she is for the pep talk she got from him at the hospital, pulling her back from the edge before she could plunge head first into that spiral of insanity. Klaus' voice has always had a way of reaching her even in the darkest of times. That, at least, hasn't changed.

But then there are all these other _feelings_ coming over her that she simply does not have the required clarity to handle at the present moment.

Nobody heard from him for three whole months. Klaus simply disappeared off the face of earth, didn't even bother sending a postcard from whatever white-sandy beach he'd been lounging at. Why couldn't he get in touch? Why did he ignore her? Why didn't he even offer a tiny comment on any of the cute baby videos she sent him? He was apparently too busy for all that. Was he in a meditation retreat? Was he hiding in some torture chamber underground with no reception? Did he go on a triple B bender - blood, bourbon and boobs - and doesn't want her to find out? No one knows! Because he literally freaking ghosted everyone. And now he just shows up, no explanations, no apologies, and parades right in like nothing happened, all unashamed dimples and concern for her admittedly fragile state of mind, making stupid jokes on her bad lying skills like he’s got any right.

It's just... Too freaking much.

"What are you doing here?" she asks grumpily, fixing the arrangements on the table.

"Looking for you," he offers simply. "Your mother's fine, by the way. I just came from the house. Eve sends her love."

"What do you want?"

"Well, first, I'm curious as to what exactly _this_ is," he gesticulates vaguely towards the table as he comes to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with her.

Caroline takes a deliberate step to the side. "It's a birthday party."

"For someone who's dead?"

"Bonnie is _not_ dead," she snaps, whipping around at him with a scowl. "She's very much alive, just momentarily misplaced until we find a way to get her back. But today is her birthday and we're going to celebrate it as we would if she were here because she's our friend and we love her. When you love someone, you don’t just forget about them and pretend they don’t exist even if they’re far away."

Klaus makes a face, a wan little smile dancing on the corner of his lips. "I sense I got more than I bargained for with that question."

"If the shoe fits," she retorts curtly.

Klaus makes an unconvinced hum under his breath. "Well, it sounds like a classic excuse to get hammered, if you ask me." He reaches out to one of the pastries on the table, but Caroline slaps his hand away.

"Like we need excuses around here." She turns back to the table and her eyes catch the teddy bear she put on the corner as a decoration. Ever since she put that thing there, she has the distinct sensation of being watched. "Is it just me, or do her eyes follow you around the room?" she asks mindlessly.

"Have you taken to day-drinking now?" She makes a face, giving him a pointed glare "I'm not judging."

"Unlike _some_ , I have standards."

"Fair enough."

"Seriously, she's giving me the creeps." 

“It’s a stuffed animal, love, not the Monalisa.”

Caroline rolls her eyes at him, and then turns the bear’s judging beady eyes away from her for good measure. "I hadn't seen Miss Cuddles in twelve years."

"Miss Cuddles?"

"It's the bear Bonnie sent back from 1994." Klaus frowns lightly, and she just waves a hand in front of her face. "Long story. Anyway, I stole the original one twelve years ago."

A slow, lazy grin pulls at Klaus’ lips, his eyes glinting with interest. "Now that sounds like a story I'd like to hear."

"It's stupid. When Bonnie and I were little, we got into this huge fight. To get back at her, I bearnapped her favorite toy - Miss Cuddles."

"I like the way you think," he says slyly, cheeky dimples cutting into his cheeks. "Tell me you dismembered it and left each of its tiny plushy limbs in a different place for little Bonnie to find."

Caroline scrunches her face into a horrified grimace. "Ew! No! What do you think I am, the kid from The Shining?"

Klaus shrugs. "Missed opportunity."

"Ok, _psycho_. Remind me to never let you talk to Eve when she’s upset with someone.”

“She’s my daughter, love, I’m sure she’ll come up with ideas all on her own.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “As a _normal_ kid with a little squabble to settle, I just took the bear so she’d be upset for a little while. I was gonna give it back. But I didn't want my mom to come home and find out, so I buried her in the woods. I even left some M&M's to mark the spot, but something must've eaten them," she finishes with a dejected sigh that comes twelve years too late.

"Well, I'm certain Bonnie is over it by now. Especially if she's trapped in 1994. She's got worse things to concern herself with. That was such a horrendous year. Plaid flannel everywhere."

"Miss Cuddles isn't over it. She's still out there, all alone... Just like Bonnie." Caroline's eyes wander back to the brand-new looking bear. She hadn't thought of Miss Cuddles in a long time, but seeing it there, now, makes her ache for her friend. It was a good way to send a message, but she almost wishes she'd kept it with her in 1994. The idea of Bonnie being on her own in a prison world with nothing and no one to talk to breaks her heart all over again. "You know what?" she says all of a sudden, setting her face to determination as an idea sparks to life. "I'm gonna go find her."

"I thought she was trapped in a different dimension."

"Not Bonnie, Miss Cuddles." Caroline walks over to where she left her coat, shrugging it back on.

"Caroline, sweetheart..." Klaus starts, walking over to her with an air of sympathy that frankly makes her want to shoot him. "You've been through a lot lately. Don't you think perhaps you're somewhat... Mistaking your feelings?"

"Yes, _Cami_ , I probably am," she sneers. "But my mom's dying and my best friend is stuck in some alternate universe and her favorite bear, which I took from her, is in a hole in the woods. There's only one of those things I can do anything about," she says, drawing a line under the conversation before she struts out of the house.

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"You know, if you were going to creepily stalk me, you could've at least brought a shovel," Caroline hisses out moodily while she digs. Things do not seem to be progressing well thus far.

"I'm not fond of digging," Klaus says with ease, sipping from the flask he brought to distract himself. He has a feeling this might take a while.

"What are you talking about? You have a PhD in that. You practically bury corpses for a living."

"Exactly. That's the boring part. I'm personally more interested in the part that comes before the burying. Besides, I've had my fair share of digging over the course of the last year. I think I'll pass."

She shoots him a glare over her shoulder, then gets back to work. "Why are you here, then? I'm sure your daughter could use your company."

"She's in good, polite hands with Elijah and your mother." Caroline merely huffs a response, giving up on the location and moving on to another. "Do you sincerely believe that digging through the woods after a teddy bear is the answer to all your woes? I could point out a few flaws on your plan. Not to mention - the forest protection services would no doubt frown upon all these holes you're -"

"You know what?" Caroline puts her shovel down and swivels around to face him, hand on her hip. "You're right. This is a waste of time. I really should be at the dive bar, drinking myself to a stupor. Or maybe I should be doing some skanky witch who's gonna plot against my whole family and try to kill my daughter to soothe my afflicted soul with cheap sex. Or, I don't know, ghost everyone for three whole months. What am I doing, digging holes in the ground when there are _so_ many better options out there?" Klaus ignores the jab, smirking at her instead, which only seems to vex her further. "If you think I'm insane, I get it. I won't deny it, I probably am. But I'm trying to handle it and, more importantly, no one's forcing you to be here. So leave."

"I should probably stay, though. To keep an eye on you, in case you have a psychotic breakdown."

She snorts derisively, staring him down. "You're one to talk."

"I am, actually. Quite familiar, indeed. You can say I'm an expert, if you will. I recognize the signs when I see them."

Caroline shakes her head and gets back to digging with a little more intent than strictly necessary. When that spot proves as hopeless as all her last attempts, she moves on to the next. Soon enough there are dozens of little piles of dirt spread around the clearing, and she seems nowhere near finding the bear. Considering she failed to retrieve it when the thing was freshly disappeared, he figures her chances of rescuing it now, when she clearly doesn't have any clue of what she's doing, are rather feeble.

Perhaps a little meekness or a show of sympathy on his part might be nice, he doesn't really mean to goad her, but Caroline needs to come to her senses. Her avoidance techniques are ghastly and not going to bring her any solace at the end of the day. He would know; he's a master at denial. Klaus doesn't want to be the one to tell her, though, not directly; she won't listen to him, anyway. Instead, he simply lets her wear herself out until she can no longer blind herself to the fact that going on a goose chase after Bonnie's long-lost teddy bear is not going to fix her mother or bring her friend back. Caroline does so love a project; she mends what she can, in order to push order into what she cannot control. Except there is no fixing this.

She is right, Klaus starts fights he'll easily win just to have the pleasure of breaking things. He retreats into clouds of darkness and liquor to drown out the rest of his senses. He oftentimes engages in impulsive relationships that bring him no real release and prove to be tremendous mistakes further down the road. But Caroline's not like that. Cheap avoidance doesn't soothe her heart. Much like planning a funeral before her mother is even gone, this will bring her no real clemency either. It might only make things worse, when she fails to retrieve the bear and all her emotions get locked into this one defeat as though that is where her world is ending. Over fixating... That's a thing vampires tend to do a lot, and not usually to great acclaim. Klaus can see the heartbreak looming in the horizon, fast approaching like dark clouds threatening a storm. It won't be pretty when it hits.

The other option to the snarkier course he's taken is to address the gorilla-sized pause that's been obviously jabbing at her, seeing how many times she's brought it up already - and the fact she's been avoiding him. If he doesn't chase after her, she pretends he doesn’t exist, which - well, he can see the irony there, and how apt it must appear to an outsider. To him, it’s just torture.

Elijah is staying with her, a welcome guest at her home, but the courtesy was never extended to Klaus and he was forced to take a room at the only appalling excuse for a three stars inn this town offers. How is that fair? He shows up at her door to see his daughter, she delivers the child to him and says _'Have a nice day,'_ before shutting the door again. Even Liz has shown him more warmth. _"You can invite him in, sweetie,"_ he heard her say once while he stood, slack-jawed, staring at the closed door with a squirming Eve in his arms, pulling at his necklaces and asking to be put down - she _walks_ now. Klaus will never not be astonished at that. Caroline, however, remains adamant. If he doesn't _stalk_ and _annoy,_ he barely gets a reaction out of her.

And, well... Addressing the _other_ resounding issue makes him terribly uncomfortable, so he'd rather stick to the easier option for the time being. He knows there will likely come a moment when it'll be inevitable, but he doesn't feel ready to go there just yet. He's no idea how to. One thousand years and this is an entirely unprecedented circumstance for him, navigating relationships discussions. Though Caroline's mood might just goad it out of him soon enough.

"Any idea how much longer you intend to drag this for?" he asks after a while. "Just to know if I'll need to refill my flask."

"Are you having a good time, Klaus? Making fun of me?" she grits out, slanting him a burning glare. 

"Well, we _are_ in the middle of the woods, searching for a plush toy buried in a shallow grave by a nine-year-old version of you. It is a little amusing, yes."

"I'm not surprised that honest efforts to fix a mistake is something you'd find laughable, but don't you think you're being too much of a dick? Even by your own standards?"

His mouth curls into a cryptic smile that tastes slightly sour. Instead of replying, he simply sips from his drink.

Caroline throws her shovel aside, striding over to him with purposeful steps. "Give me that," she snarls, trying to steal away the flask.

Klaus dodges her move, putting it just out of her reach. "Oh, no. Don't think so, sweetheart. You have more ground to cover, it's dangerous to handle shovels whilst under the influence."

Caroline puffs out in indignation. "You're an ass," she spits out, turning away from him again.

"You sound angry."

"I’m curious, actually. What do you get going out of your way just to be a dick?"

"Not much in any practical terms, to be perfectly honest, but right now I get you to at least acknowledge me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You force my hand by avoiding me, sweetheart. I have to resort to other less refined tactics," he explains matter-of-factly, waving a hand towards the woods.

"I’m not _avoiding_ you," she insists stubbornly.

"Thrusting the baby upon me and then slamming the door on my face does not count as acknowledgment."

"I don't _thrust_ the baby!" Caroline scoffs, although the way her eyes flicker away expose some measure of guilt.

"This is the most you've spoken to me since I arrived."

"What do you want from me, Klaus? I have a million things on my mind right now, in case it isn’t abundantly clear."

"Some sincerity, for starters."

"I am _sincerely_ annoyed."

"No, Caroline," he says, staring her down, taking a step closer. A muscle twitches on Caroline's jaw, but she stands her ground. "What you are is _angry_." 

"I'm not angry!" she snaps. "I'm just annoyed because I'm going through a highly emotional situation right now and you're sitting there, mocking me, _like an ass_."

"Definitely angry."

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"I'm not -!" Caroline stops herself before her voice escalates into a full-on shout. She takes a steadying breath and then whirls around to face him. "I'm not angry, ok?"

"Well, you should be. Your mother is dying, your best friend is trapped in some netherworld and you're here, in the middle of the woods, trying to make it all better by finding a stuffed animal."

"Shut up."

"Why? Truth hurts, love, but you cannot run from it. The world won't stop turning just because you're in denial."

Fire licks at her insides as that _anger_ she'd been trying so bad to hold down gets unleashed. " _Shut up!_ " she yells, lunging at him, both palms on his chest as she shoves him back. “You’re one to fucking talk!”

Klaus stumbles backwards, almost losing his balance, but he recovers fast, wiping away the surprise on his expression. His lips draw into an amused little grin instead. "Does that make you feel better?"

"No!"

"Perhaps you should try again."

The condescension in his voice pokes at the barely contained bubble of rage inside of her. Caroline grinds her teeth, grunting loudly as she shoves him again, even more strongly than before. This time, Klaus would've fallen, if he hadn't smashed against the rock behind him. While he tries to regain his footing, Caroline takes the opportunity to snatch away his flask, knocking back the whole thing at once.

"Clever," he compliments, his eyes glowing with something like pride.

"What the hell do you want, Klaus?" she demands, sounding awfully tired.

"I'm trying to motivate you."

"Oh, cut the crap. What are you doing here in Mystic Falls? Why did you even come?"

“I got the message about your mother.”

"So you _do_ get my messages, then. Interesting, considering you failed to reply to all of the dozens I sent you over the last three months with incredibly cute baby videos - _your_ incredibly cute baby - that _no one_ in their right mind would've been able to ignore, and yet, somehow, you did." He presses his lips into a tight line, eyes flickering away from hers as he dips his head down, guilt dancing on the edge of his expression. Caroline folds her arms across her chest, not at all touched by his sudden meekness. "Oh? Nothing to say anymore? Where are all your snarky and annoying comebacks? Did you leave them behind where you went for your holidays?"

"Can you blame me for being a little salty over how you chose to leave?" he says with a recognizable streak of bitterness, lifting his eyes to hers in defiance.

"Seriously? _You_ are salty? You do a bunch of terrible things to hurt everyone around you and then get all butthurt when people get mad?"

" _I_ should be the one to be mad," he counters, his voice harsh but restrained. "My own family turned their backs on me, refused to give me the benefit of the doubt you all so diligently granted a sister you'd never even met before. Elijah, my _lovely_ brother whom your mother has fallen heads over heels with, put a dagger through my bloody heart. Rebekah clearly was on board with everything, just stood there while he did it. And you -" Klaus cuts himself off, his eyes flashing. "You left."

"Because you were out of your mind, Klaus! It's been three months, almost four full moons later, and the Crescents are all _still_ stuck in their wolf forms with a curse _no one_ knows how to undo, not even your all-powerful sister."

"I find it just delightful how you're more concerned about Jackson Kenner and his pack of mongrels than you are about me.”

"Oh my God! How do you manage to turn everything around to make yourself out to be the victim?!"

"Because I am!" he snaps, fire blazing beneath his grave tone, shedding all the pretense calm. "I did everything I could for the well-being of my family, _except_ place all my trust blindingly in the hands of a complete stranger with an even shadier past than my own. I got you back, I saved our daughter, that is all that matters - it's all that _should_ matter. Your friends would all be dead right now if I hadn't come up with a sufficiently convincing alternative to appease Dahlia. If a few egos had to be bruised on the way, so be it. I wanted you to feel as hurt as I did when you turned your back on me and took our daughter with you"

"And your answer to that is to disappear on us? You were punishing her as much as you were punishing me! Did it never occur to you from my messages that she missed you? That she needed you? That _I_ -" She cuts herself off, pushing the words back down her clogged throat. “And where the fuck were you, by the way?"

"I was here!" he blurts out, words just spilling out of his mouth in an angry shout.

Caroline stops, blinking slowly at him. "What?"

He huffs out an annoyed gust of air, nostrils flaring. "I was here the whole bloody time."

"What do you mean, here? In Mystic Falls?" He merely stares at her, his expression harsh but honest. "That makes no sense. Why would you be hiding here? Why would you be here and not say anything?"

"Because I couldn't talk. I wasn't... Myself."

Caroline squints her eyes in confusion, ready to fire another argument, but then it hits her. She gapes, face smoothing into sheer shock. "Oh my God... The wolf I saw..." Klaus' eyes cut away from her, to the trees to his side. "You spent three months in wolf form, hiding out in these woods?"

"I wasn't hiding. I was living here. Every couple of days, I'd get into the city, watch you and Eve from a distance, make sure you were fine. I couldn't stay away for long."

Caroline's lips move wordlessly as she tries to compose her thoughts against the sudden spike in her heartbeats. She thought she was crazy when she saw that wolf, that it was her guilty conscience playing tricks on her because she was playing house with Eve while the Crescents suffered in the Bayou. She came up with a thousand different ideas for where Klaus could've gone, most of them terrible, jealousy and hurt permeating her every thought of him being out there trying to forget her, trying to go back to his old ways, and all along Klaus had been _right there_.

“You said you saw my message about my mother,” she forces her voice out. “How, if you were a wolf?”

“Once a month I would go back to my shelter, stretch my legs, spit out hairballs and bask in the mercy of indoor plumbing. I deleted the messages I got from almost everyone, but I did read and listen to yours. I always did.”

“Why -” she stutters, words suddenly failing her as her explosive anger dwindles away. “Why did you never reply? I thought you didn't care, Klaus. That you wanted to forget about us. Hell, I thought I’d never see you again. Why would you be so close to us and not say anything? Not even to your daughter.”

"Because you left," he says, a wounded look on his face, intense enough to swallow her whole.

Caroline feels something twisting painfully in her chest. Gone is the easy-going Klaus, teasing her about her pointless hunt to distract her with humor; he now bares himself to her, letting the emotions he'd been certainly pushing down rise to the surface. Caroline's head is spinning, and for a long moment she just stands there, glued to her spot by his unforgiving stare.

When she finally finds her voice again, it comes out low and uncertain. "I was angry with you, Klaus. Not just because of Jackson, but also because of your siblings."

"Rebekah got her witchy body back in no time."

"And what about Elijah? He compelled Gia to leave him."

"I never said he had to. That's his own fault," he retorts flippantly.

"You made him feel like he didn't have a choice, like she wouldn't be safe from his own _brother_ if she stayed. That you wouldn't be above hurting someone who clearly meant a lot to him just to be spiteful. Do you realize how awful that is? The one person your brother has had feelings for since I met him."

"Besides yourself, you mean," Klaus says, voice drenched in venom.

Caroline's glare intensifies, but she decides not to dignify his petty provocation. "You want to know the truth? Despite everything you did, I did not leave because of you. I left because of me. Because I felt responsible for everything that happened. I couldn’t bear to look everyone in the eye and move on with my life knowing full well that me being there cost them all something."

"If all you wanted was absolution, then you should've just said so. You can hardly be blamed for things that happened while you lay _dead_."

"Everything you did, you did because of me. I asked Jackson to take Eve and run, and then I died. You went ballistic on everyone, lashing out left and right, and I wasn't there to stop you. And the reason I wasn't there to begin with was because, not for the first time, someone realized they could use me to push you over the edge. All year you'd been acting like a maniac because of what happened at the church. I thought _I_ came out of that a mess, but you were so much worse. And nothing I said or did changed your mind. You weren't listening to anyone, anymore. I should've known it was only a matter of time until you snapped." Caroline stops talking, a familiar twinge in her chest making her breath falter. "I'm not good for you, Klaus," she says slowly with an audible crack, words tumbling out of her mouth like barbed wire. "I make you do crazy things, hurt people. I know you've always been - well, _you_ , but... You have a daughter now. So it's not the same, it can't be. I thought... I thought if I left, I don't know... Maybe you'd calm down. Clear your mind. Be in a better place. For Eve’s sake."

Klaus stares at her with a complete blank expression for a beat longer before he erupts into laughter. "I'm sorry, love," he says, dimples cutting into his cheeks with mock-humor. "You think _you_ make me do crazy things? You think cursing the wolves and pretending to murder Elijah's little girlfriend was _crazy_? I'll admit, I wanted it all to sting, but my mind was crystal clear the whole time, Caroline." He takes a few tentative steps closer, a chill settling over her at the look in his eyes. " _Crazy_ is what would've happened if Dahlia had never offered me a chance to get you back. _Crazy_ is what would've happened if you hadn't been resurrected at that church after giving birth to our daughter. I would've burned New Orleans to the ground. There would be not a single werewolf or witch left to tell the sad tale of how Klaus Mikaelson _finally_ lost his mind. It wouldn't have been the first time, but it would certainly be the most devastating. You don't make me do crazy things, Caroline. It's the people who try to take you away from me who do."

Her breath catches at the intensity in Klaus' stare, but still she says, "I don't want people to suffer because of me, Klaus. That's not a reason."

"Well, tough luck, sweetheart, because if it comes down to you and _people_ , I don't care who they are, I will always choose you. Haven't you realized yet that I'm a selfish man? You and our daughter will always come first."

It's the strangest thing, how her insides twist and knot at the same time she gets this impossible ripple of warmth coursing through her. Klaus' eyes flare with temper, he sounds almost offended that she would expect him to think of anyone else before her. Caroline spent her entire life wanting to know what it would feel like to be someone's top priority, to be loved unconditionally and wholly, part of it believing that she wasn't worthy, that she wasn't good enough to be someone’s whole world. She never would've thought it could actually _hurt_ to finally hear those words and know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they're true.

"I'll apologize for not trusting you and Elijah with my plans from the start," Klaus says after a pause. "I'll apologize for taking the blame for something I didn't do, thus throwing us into the throes of chaos. I'll even apologize for my perverse distrust of Freya. But do not ask me to apologize for doing everything in my power to save your life. You won't find a shred of regret in me, Caroline. I would rather have you here spitting fire at me as you are, than not have you at all."

Silence spools out heavy between them. The very air seems to shift, some of that feverish haze dissipating. Even the sharpness in Klaus' eyes change, smoothing into something softer, rich with affection. Suddenly, Caroline wants so badly to wrap her arms around him, nestle against his chest, breathe him in. Find again that fundamental part of her - of her heart or her soul or her sanity - that she left behind when she packed her bags and left New Orleans.

It makes nothing better, though. Doesn't erase her guilt or change the fact that it makes her terrified to think of Klaus descending into merciless bloodlust every time something threatens her life, and who the next collateral might be. The space between them - and there is so much space, much more than the slim physical distance keeping them apart - still feels tender and bruised, but suddenly all she wants to do is put it aside, leave it in suspension to be addressed later and ask him to hold her. Allow him to make this all go away.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Something about Caroline changes. Her fiery indignation dwindles, her shoulders dropping as she leans back against the tree behind her for support, pain shimmering in her glassy eyes. It disarms Klaus' own ironclad resolve.

"I'm glad I left," she speaks after a moment, choked up. "I came here to try and find a way to break the Crescents out of Dahlia's curse, to stop hiding my daughter from my mother like she was some dirty secret, and then..." She stops, sucks in a shuddery breath. "If I hadn't been mad at you and decided to come back, my mom could've died alone, never knowing Eve."

Klaus' heart contracts painfully as Caroline's true feelings finally break through the surface. She sets her jaw tightly, balling her hands into fists as she struggles to regain control of her emotions, to push it all down and keep the façade of strength she'd been so valiantly holding on to. She's used to being strong, being the shoulder everyone cries on, keeping her suffering to herself. It's never made her angry, as it does him, never steeped her in bitterness, quite the opposite; it's only made her kinder. Now, however, as everything inside her threatens to give out, she simply doesn't know how to let go. All those years of being other people's safe port has made Caroline unsure of how to ask for comfort, how to reach out and take what she needs.

And the truth is... Klaus is not good at that either. Not at seeking solace, and not at offering it. He's the ultimate selfish man, setting himself on fire in order to appease his demons, not bothering for one bit who he might be scorching down along the way. Guilt churns away in his stomach as he thinks of how long she's been keeping all this to herself, swallowing back the tears and the fear she won't dare to let out because of her mother, because of Eve. If he had been by her side sooner, if he'd come to her once he noticed there was something off, perhaps she wouldn't have felt like she didn't have a choice but to soldier on. Perhaps this wouldn't be tearing her apart from the inside out.

The need to hold her rushes through Klaus like a force. He takes a tentative step forward, the distance between them so short now he can feel her warmth, her intoxicating scent overwhelming his senses. The pull is too strong; he put maddening effort into resisting this proximity for the last three months all the while craving nothing more.

He allows her a moment to either move away or tell him not to. When she doesn't, he lifts a hand to her face, cups her cheek with his palm, his fingertips rubbing softly against the smoothness of her skin. It sends a jolt up his arm and straight to his heart, his breath catching at the familiarity of this touch, at how much he ached for it. Klaus feels himself coming alive.

How terribly he's missed this... How terribly he's missed _her_...

"I'm glad the sheriff had a chance to meet our littlest wolf, too," he whispers. "I never meant for it to happen, I was angry beyond any reason that you left me... But I am glad you came home to your mother. I am glad you have this." Caroline shuts her eyes, tilting her head just a tad into his hand, and he's about to lean in, to pull her into a hug he desires more than life itself, when, off the corner of his eye, he catches something near one of the dirt mounts where she was digging.

Klaus squints. It looks like.... "Is that... An ear?"

Caroline's eyes fly open, her mouth drawing into a hard line. "It's not funny, Klaus," she hisses, breaking the moment between them. "Stop making fun of me."

"I'm not," he says, stepping away from her and pointing. "Look."

With a glare that says she's ready to punch him in case he's taking the piss again, she turns around to see for herself. "Oh my god," she gasps, blinking slowly. "It's..." Caroline walks over to the spot, using her hands to dig further and then pull an incredibly filthy teddy bear from the ground. "Miss Cuddles!" she yelps, whipping around to him with a smile the size of the world on her face. "I can’t believe this! She is disgusting, but I can clean her up and make her as good as -"

The bear's body falls to the ground as she starts to shake off some of the dirt, its sad decapitated head still in Caroline's hand. The thing is so rotten it simply came undone. She meets his eyes, her mouth pressed together as her face crumples up before she erupts into laughter. After a second, however, her laughter turns hysterical, on the verge of panic, and then it breaks into a sob, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm sorry," she chokes out, her voice unraveling at the end as she tries to turn away from him.

"Sorry for what?"

Caroline shakes her head. "I don't know. Everything. I'm sorry I left. I’m sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I can't help Jackson. I can't help my mom. I can’t help Bonnie. I can't help anyone. I don't know what to do, I’m just… Sorry."

Klaus puts his hands around her waist and pulls her into him, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Caroline goes easily, burying her face in his neck, hugging him tightly as sobs rake through her.

"It's all right, love. Let it out," he whispers gently, rubbing her back. "I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Sewing was never one of Caroline's favorite things. She's way too agitated for such a thorough, slow activity. It was, however, an incredibly useful skill for someone involved in all of the school's theatrical productions, beauty pageants and the cheer squad. There was always someone in need of a last-minute adjustment, some unexpected tear to be fixed or some stupid dress deciding not to look _perfect_ half an hour before she was meant to be parading it in front of prissy judges.

Other girls had their moms or grandmas or older sisters - some even their dads - to do it for them. Caroline was an only child whose dad had walked out, with a mother in the police force who never had much talent for these little domestic tasks to begin with. So, begrudgingly, she taught herself how to sew.

Now, as she reattaches Miss Cuddles' head back to its little body, she is really glad she strived through it. With mild surprise, she realizes she doesn't even hate doing it anymore. It's almost therapeutic, putting the needle through the plush, pulling it up, driving it in, seeing as poor Miss Cuddles is slowly put back together. If only everything could be fixed with a little needle and thread.

Klaus joins her in the living room, two glasses of bourbon in his hands, offering her one.

"Thank you," she says with a grin. He arches his eyebrows at her when she knocks back the whole thing at once. Just because sewing is calming, it doesn't mean she doesn't need that drink. It burns down her throat, washing some of the clogs still there with it. Klaus puts the second glass forward, and Caroline takes it as well, drinking more slowly this time. "Did you check on her?" she asks as he sinks down on an armchair.

"Soundly asleep in your mother's bedroom," he replies. "And so's the sheriff."

Caroline purses her lips in appreciation. She never meant to stay out for so long, but between her impulsive bear hunt, melting into a puddle of tears in the middle of the woods and Bonnie's sad birthday celebration, by the time she came home, Liz and Eve had already gone to sleep. And all through it, Klaus stayed with her. He even took Damon and Stefan's glares and snide remarks on the chin, though Caroline thinks he might've actually enjoyed himself a bit too much. Klaus loves a good chance to showcase his colorful snark.

"Thank you for stalking me today.”

"That used to be my favorite activity back in the old Mystic Falls days," he replies with ease.

Caroline chuckles, then she bites on her lower lip, considering her next words. "I've been thinking..." she starts. "I think I know what I want to do."

"Oh?"

"My family has this cabin, just outside of Mystic Falls. We used to go there a lot when I was little. It's really calm out there, with this mountain feeling to it, surrounded by nature, no neighbors... It's nice. So, I was thinking... I could head there, see what the place is like, get it cleaned up, take some of my mom's favorite things, make it nice and cozy for her so she can spend whatever time she has left just... Enjoying herself. No stress, no nothing. Just comfort food, comfort blankets and us."

Klaus smiles affably. "Sounds lovely."

"I wanna go as soon as possible, maybe give her a week or so to recover and get stronger. Then I can box up some stuff, maybe have it all set up in one day and make it a surprise."

"I'm sure she'll love it."

"Yeah, I think so, too." Caroline looks down at the bear, pretends to busy herself with a stitch. "So... Would you be interested in accompanying me? I could use the extra -"

"I would love to.”

Caroline looks at him from under her lashes. "Yeah? Even if it’s to carry boxes and fix some loose floorboards?"

Klaus' lips kick up into a lopsided smile, his eyes dark in the low light, but alight with warmth. “I would weasel myself into your trip even if you hadn't asked me to, love. I have no qualms with being inconvenient.”

Caroline smiles back at him, sipping again from her drink.

For the first time in weeks, Caroline feels like she has something outside of all the misery competing for her attention to focus on. She doesn't really understand how this magic works, how Klaus just seems to steady all of the feelings wreaking havoc inside of her, how he can make the world feel so calm and reassuring when he himself is the epitome of chaotic and unpredictable. Her heart calls out to him like iron to a magnet, as though it knows where it belongs.

There's so much they still need to fix. It's useless to pretend everything's suddenly fine when none of the issues that set them apart have really been addressed. For now, however, Caroline is ok with leaving it on hold. She needs Klaus here more than she needs him to atone for his sins.

For once, she'll grant herself permission to be selfish, too, and just take what she needs.

"It's a date, then."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! 😂 This was a very KC-centric chapter, which is something I feel we haven't had in a very long time. Really hope you guys liked it! 
> 
> For those of you who like a soundtrack, there is a song for the scene between Klaus and Caroline in the woods, the part where things get serious. It's **[Don't Forget About Me by Cloves](https://open.spotify.com/track/4gVZhkcsZcwQ4mU1gEeXEO?si=7HOqXCmvSve-jc7sqZmCaA)**.
> 
> Also, in case you're wondering, the scene I mentioned as one of my favorites is Klaus and Kai. 😂 The match made in hell I would've loved to see on the show. 💖✨
> 
> As always, if you enjoy it, please let me know! Your kudos and comments really make my day! Thank you for reading! 💖


	26. S02E26 Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: character death ahead, folks!**
> 
> I don't like to spoiler things, but I feel like I must with this one. If this is triggering for you in any way, please be careful with this chapter. ☹️ It gets truly angsty, I mean it.
> 
> This chapter took SO much work and SO much thought and I'm having so much anxiety over posting it. I really, really hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you so much to **coveredintehcolors** , he had to listen to me whine about it for hours and convince me it was good enough. 😂 She's a saint! And a big shout out to **recyclingss** , #1 cheerleader who held my hand through writing this part.💖
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you, beautiful souls, for your lovely messages and comments! 😍😍 I'm a little behind cause work has been rough, but I'm catching up! You guys make my entire week! Hope you enjoy this one! :)

* * *

"If you really think about it, Jeremy leaving is for the best," Caroline says as she climbs out of the car in front of Bill Forbes' old cabin.

Her little Fiesta stayed parked in the garage in favor of Klaus' much more spacious SUV, which Caroline promptly filled to the brim with boxes and suitcases. Not that she had that particular detail in mind when she invited him to come along, but it does help.

While they were on the way, Elena called to inform everyone was heading to the Grill for Jeremy's _graduation party_. For as long as Caroline can remember, Elena has been trying to get her little brother to see the light and find a path for himself, preferably far from Mystic Falls, where he just keeps getting in the way of death. Against all reason, Jeremy had always put his foot down and said no. Granted, the part where he was actually dead for a while didn't help, and Caroline is very glad that they managed to get him back, it just... Seems a little pointless if he's just going to mope around for the rest of his days, narrowly dodging tragedy every other week.

Elena and Damon had a nice _conversation_ with the school headmaster, where the poor man was politely convinced to sign off on Jeremy's diploma, even though he missed four months of classes and failed pretty much everything. As an overachiever and chosen valedictorian who didn't show up for her finals or graduation and had her own compelled high school diploma... Caroline can certainly relate.

"I'm sure everything around him reminds him of Bonnie, and Elena always wanted to protect him from the vampire drama," she continues, walking around the car.

Klaus gives her a pointed look. "Yes, I seem to remember how well that worked when he murdered my brother."

"Kol was trying to cut off his arms," Caroline counters. 

"Do make excuses for their atrocities, why don't you? Me? I never get a pass. I _forged_ Elijah's girlfriend's death and I'm still getting the cold shoulder from half of my family months later. But the people who lured my little brother into a trap and then murde -"

"All right, all right!" Caroline cuts off his righteous rant. "I get it, you were hurt. I'm sorry. I just didn't really care about Kol back then. He was a murderous douchebag."

"Kol has always been, will always be, a brat. But he's my brother and I have no warm feelings towards anyone who hurts my family."

Caroline tilts her head to the side. "Aww, are you upset because you're the only one who gets to hurt them?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Klaus says, unfazed by her obvious jab. "I decide when and how to punish my siblings for their misgivings. In fact - I expected you to be more biased by now."

Caroline scoffs. "You don't think I'm biased enough, everyone else thinks I've started a Mikaelson fan club. I can't win." Klaus joins her at the back of the car, an unimpressed look on his face. "I'm just saying... Kol was trying to cut off Jeremy's arms, and he's an artist. He's going off to art school. You, of all people, should _kind of_ relate?"

"I remember his _art_ ,” Klaus speaks with a disdainful twist of his lips. “If that's what you call it."

"Klaus, you've had a thousand years to perfect your artistic skills. I'm sure you've studied under great minds, probably compelled to mentor you. Jeremy is a 19-year-old former junkie with a screwed-up life who's only now going to get a chance to really do what he loves. Granted, art school has one of the country's lowest percentage rate for well-paying jobs -"

"Oh, please! True art cannot be bought or qualified by worldly, preposterous things such as money," he grumbles, gesticulating widely and sounding genuinely offended by her bit of practical daily life information. "True art is a living, breathing thing that speaks of an artist's spirit and bares out his soul. It should be transcendental, not monetized. That is incredibly diminishing."

"Says the millionaire who never had to work a single day for a living."

"Why are we still debating Jeremy Gilbert's excuse for talent again?"

"You know, this is why no one likes you. You don’t give a shit about anyone."

"However shall I sleep at night?" he deadpans, pressing the button to open the trunk, revealing the cluster of boxes and bags Caroline punched into his car. "Do you think you packed enough?"

"The whole point of this is for my mom to live out the rest of her time here in a relaxed, peaceful environment, surrounded by the things that she loves. Like photo albums and board games," she says simply.

Klaus picks up the two largest boxes, cocking an eyebrow at her as he checks some of the content inside. "The anthology of Shakespeare, volumes one through twelve?"

"All the books she never got around to reading."

He smiles in a way that says he thinks her thoroughness is endearing, brushing by her to take the boxes to the house. Just before he goes up the front steps, his phone starts ringing. "Do you mind getting that for me, love?" he says, turning back to her and making a show of his occupied hands.

She doesn't realize how close they are until she notices the suggestive and not at all subtle smirk on Klaus' lips when she shoves a hand down his front pocket to retrieve his phone without so much as a second thought. You'd think someone with whom she's slept with countless times would think less of such an innocent gesture, but boys will be boys, apparently. Even the ones who are past their 1000th birthday mark.

"Really?" she asks with a dead look. Klaus' smile broadens, cheeky dimples deep into his cheeks. Caroline shakes her head, disguising her own grin by looking down at the name flashing on his screen. And then she gapes. "Why is my mother calling you?" she demands, gluing the phone to her ear. "Are you going behind my back for information?"

"Well, hello, Klaus. Love your new accent," Liz’s soft voice sounds on the other end.

"Why are you calling him and not me?"

"You've been hounding me every hour of every day and then this morning you snuck out of the house without so much as a hello. I may be a retired detective, but I'm still a mother. What are you up to?"

"If I told you, it would ruin the surprise," she says, walking up to the front door and unlocking it for Klaus. She mouths _master bedroom_ to him before walking back to the car.

"At least tell me if Klaus is there voluntarily or if I should be worried."

"Worried about what?"

"That he was coerced and might throw one of his famous tantrums while you're isolated and alone, an hour away from civilization."

Caroline snorts loudly. "I got my masters degree on handling Klaus' tantrums, mom, don't worry. But to answer your question, I did not coerce him. I merely asked if he'd like to come along, and he said yes. If he regrets it, it's on him."

"Well, that makes me more relieved."

"He's here to keep an eye on me and make sure I don't snap or something, so don't worry about that either."

"I'm sure that's not the only reason he's there."

"It better not be. But I needed the extra set of hands, anyway. What's a hybrid for, right?” After a pause, Caroline adds, familiar concern tugging at her chest, "Mom, are you ok? I can come home if you're not up for surprises."

"I'm fine, sweetie. I know it's useless to say it, but don't worry."

"Well, that's all I do, all the time. I'm a smotherer, you know that."

"I do. And I'm also looking forward to whatever grand plan you've got cooking up."

"Ok, if you're sure," she says, grinning. "So just enjoy your day with Eve. I will call you in three hours with all the details. Until then, _no cheating_. I love you!"

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

With a smile plastered on her face, Caroline puts Klaus' phone down and takes a good look around the property. She hadn't been there in years, but the place looks just as nice as she remembers. It's a lovely day; sunny, but not too warm, the trees surrounding the house dancing to the light end-of-summer breeze. Nothing and no one for as far as the eye can see. The exact kind of stress-free and cozy Caroline was going for. The cobwebs and the layer of dust covering the bannisters are just details. Nothing a good cleaning can't fix in a second - and she could actually use having something to clean, to be completely honest.

For the first time in weeks, she feels good about something. It’ll be great to spend time here with her mother. She can hardly wait to surprise her.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It takes longer for Elijah to get rid of the line of people wanting to pinch Eve's cheeks when he walks into the police station with her than it did for him to figure that's where Elizabeth Forbes would be when she left the house claiming she was just going for a _walk_ and didn’t come back in a timely fashion. One can easily see where Caroline got a lot of her quirks from, such as her restlessness and the love for a little project to occupy her mind with.

He finds Liz behind her desk at the sheriff's office, going through a stack of case folders.

"Not to be rude," he says pleasantly, “but I think you’ve earned a ticket out of work, no?"

"What are you doing here?" Liz asks, an embarrassed half-grin curling at her lips.

"We were just in the neighborhood."

Liz narrows her eyes at him playfully. "Really?"

"I figured you might like a visit. From her, of course," he says, pushing Eve's stroller into her office.

The woman’s face lights up with a luminous smile as she looks down at her granddaughter. "Always!"

"Your officer friends outside were all very excited."

"Everyone's mad in love with Evie around here. Was that the commotion I heard? I thought they had a DUI."

"No. Just a case of an irresistibly adorable baby in the premises," Elijah remarks. He's pretty certain Niklaus would have a stroke watching these many strangers wanting to come close to his daughter. The problem with being in a town where no one knows of the child's paternal family's long history of gratuitous dismemberment and decapitations is that no one shows any restraint when it comes to approaching the baby, even under a not-so-subtle glare from her uncle. Silent threats do not work as effectively when they have no idea what they're being threatened with. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I don't want to leave this job with unfinished cases," she says around a sigh, motioning to all the folders in front of her. "I have all these open cases I'm going through to see if there's anything I missed."

"I'm known to be rather attentive to details. Perhaps I might be of some assistance?"

"Elijah," she drawls, giving him a look.

He blinks innocently. "Yes?"

"I know Caroline has probably put you on mom duty to keep an eye on me while she's off with her mystery project, but I promise you I'm not gonna go chasing after her or do anything crazy."

"You wound me, sheriff," he says with a frown. "I know we haven't known each other for long, but let me assure you, my surveillance methods are far more refined than simply barging through your door. I would not be here if I didn't want to."

Despite some resistance, a smile slowly tugs at her lips. "You Mikaelsons know when to turn on the charm, don't you?"

"We're all exceedingly good at it, yes," he says, giving her a crooked grin of his own. "Is it working?"

Liz motions for the chair across from her. "Take a seat."

"Thank you."

He pushes the stroller until Eve is within her grandmother's reach, undoing the buttons on his jacket as he sinks down onto the chair.

"Knock yourself out," Liz says, pushing the folders towards him.

He nods his head once in appreciation before he goes perusing through them. It takes him mere seconds of superficial inspection to realize what all those _mysterious deaths_ actually are. A town as small as Mystic Falls shouldn't have so many unsolved murders. There's only one reason why it does.

"Vampire," he announces, closing the first folder and moving on to the second. "Vampire... Vampire... Vampire."

"How can you tell so fast? Some of these don’t even have bite marks."

"Common markers. I have a certain experience observing these creatures, if you will. Not to mention, a good portion of them is a part of my sire line. Oh, this one is not vampire," he says, handing her back the file.

“Oh?”

"It's hybrid. Niklaus' fangs have a particularly vicious signature."

Liz snorts, shaking her head. “Isn’t it lovely to come upon crimes committed by your granddaughter's father?”

“Far from me to defend Niklaus, but… In this place, you’ll hardly find anyone who hasn’t committed some form of heinous crime or another.”

“You are absolutely right.” She opens a drawer on her desk, taking out another folder and handing it over to Elijah. "What can you tell me about this one?"

"Gilbert incident," Elijah reads on the front. "As in Elena Gilbert?"

"Her parents."

He opens the file, which is larger than the ones he'd been looking at before, a lot more detailed. "A car accident, if I'm not mistaken, wasn't it?"

Liz nods. "They drove off the Wickery Bridge, both drowned. Elena was miraculously rescued - by Stefan, but you won’t find that on the file."

He reads a bit further, flipping through some more pages. There are many attached photographs of the site of the accident, though none of the victims. "I don't see anything suspicious, apart from Elena's unlikely survival. Why is it still open?"

"At the time, I was taking care of Elena and Jeremy, and I didn't want to drag them through more heartache. Besides, we didn’t know we had a supernatural problem, it never even occurred to me. Then when I was finally ready to reopen the wound, Elena had moved on and I'd become friends with Damon Salvatore. I was worried that... Digging deeper into it would only show me that he was involved," she explains, a concerned look on her face.

"Well..." Elijah starts slowly, going through the file once more just to make sure. "I'm not a fan of Damon Salvatore myself, but I don't see anything here that indicates vampire action."

"Miranda - that was Elena's mom, my best friend - left me this message two hours before they got in that car, two hours before they drove off that road for no reason."

The sheriff presses a button on her desk phone and a message starts playing. _"Liz, it's Miranda Gilbert. I have something urgent to talk to you about. Please, call me back as soon as you can._ "

He exchanges a look with Liz. Though the investigation looks thorough enough, Elijah can't deny that the female voice on the other end sounds mildly alarmed. The fact she was dead mere two hours later makes it terribly disquieting.

"Looks like you have a good classic mystery on your hands, sheriff," Elijah says. "I say the three of us," he adds, casting a look at Eve, "figure this one out."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline comes to a halt when she walks out of the house, taken aback by the scene on the front porch. She can't tell what strikes her the most: the fact Klaus is up on a ladder apparently fixing something on the light, or the fact he looks... Well, inhumanly good while doing so.

Although he's been in Mystic Falls for weeks now, his presence has been closely accompanied by a lot of convoluted feelings and the constant flow of concern about her mother's health, which honestly takes up all of Caroline's attention, all the time. It dawns on her all of a sudden that she was yet to look at him, _really_ look at him. It's like her mind suddenly clears enough for her to take in his larger-than-life figure, which instantly incites a familiar clenching deep inside her body.

It hits her out of nowhere, this abrupt stab of _want_ , the acknowledgement that she misses him, being close to him, feeling him, touching him. It’s sudden and staggering and it wasn't there until the very moment it was: sheer, unadorned need.

She sucks in a little breath, swallowing as her eyes wander appreciatively over his body.

It's... distracting.

The sight of Klaus in a white knit Henley that clings to his torso in all the right places sends off a shot of heat right through her. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone, revealing the sole beaded necklace he's wearing today. The shirt stretches across his broad shoulders as he lifts his arms, and Caroline follows its line down to his waist, his jeans hugging his hips and thighs in ways it should not be allowed to. He has a concentration line between his eyes as he works, and Caroline just cannot figure out for the life of her how she'd failed to register that his hair has grown out enough for it to curl at the edges, a longer lock that looks honey blonde under the soft sunlight falling down his forehead, and all she wants to do is feel those waves under her hands and wrap those curls around her fingers and then -

"If you want to take that out for a spin, I suggest you get your helmet," Klaus' voice startles her out of her inappropriate reverie. For a second, she thinks he's making some very lewd metaphor about himself, and then she realizes he means the little bicycle she brought out with her. She got so lost in the dip between his chest muscles she almost forgot why she'd come to find him in the first place.

Caroline clears her throat, glad to have the bike there to divert from her awkwardness. "It's the bike I learned to ride on," she says. "I didn't know my mom kept it. And it looks perfect still. It used to have these training wheels on the back with lights that would flash every time you pedaled."

"That does sound like something you'd have," Klaus says as he climbs down the ladder.

"Right? I loved them! Then one day my mom took them off and said it was time to be a big girl. You can imagine the princess-sized tantrum that followed."

"Well, it had lights. I don't blame you."

Caroline chuckles, and when it dies out, she remembers that Klaus' pretty face and well-fitted shirt distracted her from the other thing that gave her pause when she walked out. "I'm sorry - what were you doing up there?" she asks.

"I was changing the lightbulbs and noticed the box was loose, so I was fixing it."

She puffs out an incredulous laugh. "Since when?"

"Since I noticed they were loose."

"Since when do you know how to do that? You, fixing things in the house, like a husband or something? I thought evil villains had minions to do that kind of thing for them."

"Just because I'd rather optimize my time by having people carry out these pesky domestic chores for me, it does not mean I _can't_ do them. I just can't be bothered. It's different."

Caroline cocks her head, scrunching up her nose in a doubtful look. Klaus rolls his eyes in defeat. "Fine. I'm tragic with handiwork that does not involve breaking things. I have no idea what I was doing, it just looked like it required some tinkering."

She chuckles. "No minions available, then?"

“Tragically, I did not keep any around Mystic Falls. Too much trouble for their worth.”

She makes a mock-injury face, lips drawn downwards in an exaggerated pout. “How sad.”

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I reward those under my employment handsomely."

“When you’re not compelling them to slash their wrists open and fill up your glass, you mean,” she teases in a light tone.

“ _Especially_ then. Although, if you must know, some of them don’t even need compulsion. There are people out there with all sorts of kinks, if you know where to find them.”

“Well, I _definitely_ don’t want to know where you find them.”

Klaus’ lips stretch into a self-satisfied smile. “It’s nothing like that, love. Have you heard of this magical tool called the internet? You can hire just about anything with a swipe of your finger.”

Caroline rolls her eyes at his obvious jab at her barely disguised show of jealousy, but she _is_ glad he doesn't head out to weird underground kinky clubs in order to find his blood donors, especially since she was constantly stumbling upon these people at the compound. And, honestly, she doesn't doubt him. There must be a sub reddit for that kind of thing. Caroline can definitely remember some people back in high school who would volunteer to be fed on by hot vampires. She wouldn’t have said no to Edward Cullen.

"You know you don't have to do all this, right?" she continues, changing the subject.

"It would take forever to get someone out here. Your cabin is all made of wood, you could have electrical fires and -"

"No, I mean, being here, with me. I know I asked you to come, but you were allowed to say no. And I realize fixing loose wires in some old cabin isn't your idea of _fun_. Besides, you've already helped enough with the boxes and the heavy-lifting, so you're free to go, if you want to. If you'd rather go back, maybe stay with Eve, grab yourself a snack, which I’d rather not hear about -"

"Caroline," he cuts her off gently, looking her dead in the eye. "I'm exactly where I want to be." She gets a little happy flutter in her chest, her lips curling upwards into a toothy smile. "So, do you think we can keep this for Eve?" he asks, pointing to the bike.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so. But we're gonna need to get the training wheels."

"With lights. Got it," he nods. "How old does a little person need to be to ride one of these?"

"I think I got this when I was four, but if she's a tall kid like I was, maybe sooner."

"So... This tall?" He puts his hand out, a little under his knee.

"A little higher," she adjusts it, pulling his hand up.

"Can we get a smaller version until she grows up to that?"

"We should. _Ooh!_ We should get her one of those red tricycles with ribbons tied to the handlebars and a back basket so she can take her little plushy bears and her dolls for a ride!"

"You've clearly thought of everything," Klaus says with a chuckle. "I'll add it to my list of things to prepare for when she comes to stay with me so she'll think I'm the nicest parent."

The humor suddenly bleeds from Caroline's face, her smile drawn tight. His words completely floor her, dropping in her stomach like an anchor. She doesn't know why it bothers her so much. They've been apart for three months already. Klaus is only stating the obvious - that they're separated now. That their kid is gonna have two homes. Two tricycles, two bikes, two bedrooms. For some reason, Caroline had never really seen it that way, never really let it sink in. Some part of her still thought they'd fix everything, that they’d find a way back. To hear it rolling off his tongue so naturally, though, so easily... Drives a knife straight through her heart.

Her mouth tastes sour with disappointment, and she’s not entirely sure she can keep the flare of it from her face. Caroline avoids his eyes, looking down at the bike instead. "I'm gonna... Get things out of the boxes, then," she says, scurrying back to the house.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus never had any doubts about Caroline's otherworldly efficiency, something she's had even before she became a vampire, but even with his high expectations, he is thoroughly impressed. She really is a machine. Either that, or he’s that much of an incompetent when taking care of domestic chores. A bit of both, probably.

In the time it took him to change the lightbulbs outside, fix a loose floorboard on the porch and remove the cobwebs, she cleaned up the whole house, stashed the fridge and did most of the unpacking. When he goes back inside to ask where she needs him next, there's barely nothing left to do. The previously abandoned cabin looks spotless, ready for the move in.

He wonders if he should be concerned. Not that he didn't know her drive is unparalleled, but this seems a bit extreme, even for her. The way she retreated back into the house and stayed quiet for hours after their brief, however hopeful, interaction doesn't rub him right either. It screams of Caroline's inner control monster escaping its leash and sending her back into that downward spiral of unhealthy coping.

He just doesn't know what triggered it. She seemed better than she'd been since his arrival in Mystic Falls. Calm, excited, even talkative. She went on for hours in the car about the Gilberts' most recent plight, even though he cannot think of any matters that could interest him less. Just listening to Caroline talking about something with such investment loosened a knot that had been tied in his chest for months. It made him _want_ to discuss Jeremy Gilbert's insipid life, just to keep her going.

He missed her terribly. All of her. The physical parts of their relationship, of course - her body, her kisses, the sparkle in her eyes when she came undone around him, when she fell limp from exertion and pleasure into his arms, the way his name would roll off her tongue like a prayer. His skin still burns on that tiny spot on his throat where the touch of her lips used to linger, an invisible tattoo that comes alive when she’s nearby. But he missed everything else just as much. The intimacy. The closeness. The ease of being around her every day. Holding her while she sleeps. Her lazy smiles when she first wakes up on a quiet morning. The sound of her voice when she hums in the shower, when she babbles nonstop about a thing or another that catches her interest. The clever, brilliant glint in her gaze as she stares at him in wonder while he discourses about the rare pieces of this world that truly move him. The way she weaves all those prodding questions, offers her own unabashed opinions and makes refreshing observations that suddenly cast new light over things Klaus has had pinned down for centuries. The rasp of her sleepy tone when she puts her head down on the pillow and reminiscences of her past, telling him stories of her childhood, things she likes, things she dreams of. 

He could go on forever.

It's a wonder he managed to stay away from her for three whole months, not exchanging a single word, even if he was always so close. Elijah’s petty examinations of him are right on at least one account: his stubbornness truly is unrivaled. Klaus is, however, willing to make amends, even if that means discussing young Jeremy's pitiful artistic aspirations. But it's as though he blinked, and Caroline slipped back into her distant, panicked state.

He goes through some of the boxes still in the living room and finds one filled to the brim with bourbon. A good enough excuse to start conversation, he thinks, grabbing one and going after her.

The work in the master bedroom, as in the rest of the house, looks pretty much done. The bed was carefully made, tons of fluffy pillows spread on top of it. The only thing still yet to get sorted are the books. Caroline is so enthralled in her task she doesn't even notice him approaching.

"Couldn't help but notice you brought an entire crate of these," he says softly, not meaning to startle her. "Weren't you the one always offering commentary on my appalling drinking habits?"

She casts a quick glance up, then goes back to flipping through pages. "They're for my mom. She gets a pass."

"Where should I store them?"

"There's, uh," she points vaguely towards the door, not even bothering to look up. "A cellar under the stairs."

Instead of turning around to go put the bottles away, Klaus takes another step further into the room. "Are you alright?"

Caroline shakes her head shortly. "Do you realize whichever book my mom reaches for could be the last thing that she ever reads? Jane Eyre is 600 pages. What if she goes for it and doesn't finish? Or worse! What if she gets halfway through and then realizes that she hates it? What if she wastes her final precious moments on a terrible book? I just don't want to be responsible for ruining her last literary experience." With a frustrated grunt, Caroline puts the book she'd been perusing through down and moves around the bed to retrieve another one. “Maybe I should get more books.”

Klaus approaches her tentatively, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Caroline, love," he says, and waits until she's lifted her chin to meet his eyes. "Let me handle the books for you."

"No. I should do it; I know what she likes."

"I have read every single one of these books, several times over. I even met some of the authors. For instance, I wouldn't recommend Great Expectations," he says taking the book off her hands. "Dickens was a bit of a wanker, if you ask me."

Caroline lets out a strangled laugh, amusement creeping into her eyes at last. "Fine. But I'm opening this," she concedes after a moment, taking the bottle away from him.

"I thought that was for your mother," he teases.

"Oh, it was."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Honestly, I don't remember why we took that route home," Elena says, going over her parents' case files. "And I had no idea that there was luggage in the trunk.”

Elijah has to say, he does admire the girl's fortitude. She didn't hesitate for a second when the sheriff called asking her to stop by the station to look over some old files, see if she could help elucidate some questions. And she did not back away when she was shown the file with her parents' names on the cover, though it did not escape him how her heart skipped a beat and her fingers hesitated for a split-second to open the folder.

Elena Gilbert has seen and experienced almost everything in her young life, from the highest peaks of otherworldly joy to the darkest depths of grief. Instead of succumbing, she's grown a thick skin. Admirable, indeed, but also terribly sad.

"What about the skid marks? Any reason your dad would just drive off the road like he was trying to avoid something without braking?" Elizabeth asks.

Elena’s mouth draws into an apologetic curve. "I was texting Bonnie when it happened, I didn't really see anything. It's embarrassing, I know."

"What about the voicemail?" Elijah inquires, shifting Eve from one of his arms to the other.

"I wasn't home that night," Elena says, looking back down at the file, her eyes lingering on the photograph of the car after it was hoisted out of the river. "Do you really think there's something up with my parents' crash?"

"I don't know. But given how this town works..." Liz trails off. Elena's expression tightens as concern flickers through her dark eyes. "I'm sorry, Elena. I know I should've brought this up sooner, but in those first few weeks after your parents died, I -"

"I know," Elena interrupts her gently, putting a hand on the sheriff's arm. "You took care of Jeremy and I. Poor Jenna was trying... And failing." The two of them exchange a warm smile. "You let us stay at your place, took us to school, made us dinner... I really appreciate everything you did for us back then."

Liz puts a hand on top of hers. "You don't have to pretend you liked my food, though. I know I'm a lousy cook."

Elena laughs, shrugging lightly. "Well, you really tried!" The girl stands up, fixing her jacket. "I'll go see if Jer knows anything."

"Thank you, Elena."

She stops in front of Elijah to speak to Eve, placing a kiss on the back of the baby’s hand. When she looks up at him, her eyes widen just a tad at the realization of how inappropriately close they are. Elijah's lips draw into a pleasant smile. "Miss Gilbert," he says smoothly.

"I, uh... Bye," she stammers, swiftly turning away from him and scurrying out of the room, but not fast enough that he didn't catch the faint blush on her cheeks.

When he turns back to the sheriff, she's peering at him with knowing eyes. "You enjoy this, don't you?"

Elijah arches his eyebrows innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Liz shakes her head, that mothering reproach on her face even as she tries to bite back on a grin. "You know, I remember being terrified when Damon told me your brother had a thing for Caroline. Actually, no - the word he used was _obsession_. Klaus is _obsessed_ with Caroline, is what he said. I _froze_. When I told her to be careful, she laughed in my face, like I was being absurd. _Please, mom. Have you met me?_ " Elijah can't help the smile. He can hear the words on Caroline's voice. "I imagine _that_ ," Liz continues, bobbing her head towards the door, meaning Elena. "Was the exact effect Klaus was going for on her. Except Caroline is not the blushing type."

"She is immune to cheap charm."

"I'd say that's debatable. Case in point..." Liz motions towards her granddaughter, still in Elijah's arms.

He sits down on the chair across from the sheriff, letting Eve play with his tie. "To be perfectly honest, the tale of how Niklaus won her over remains a mystery to me. To this day, I cannot imagine how he managed."

"I don't know either, there’s a huge leap there between passive-aggressive flirtation and baby that I don’t really know how to fill, but if I had to guess... It probably had something to do with the gifts." Elijah's brow furrows, curiosity definitely piqued. "The drawings. The dresses. And, above all, the attention. Caroline... She's all in, always, with the people she loves. Her friends, me, and the boys she fell for. The same isn't always true for them. Even I could tell her devotion wasn't always reciprocated. I'm afraid that, after her father left and I threw myself into work, Caroline grew up with this idea that she should settle for whatever she got, not what she deserved. That she wasn't always meant to come first, and that it was ok. Her desire for acceptance sometimes trumped her own needs. I've seen her try too hard and have her heart broken too many times. With Klaus... I think it was different. Caroline certainly wasn't open to it, but I guess she couldn't help the intrigue. I mean, who could? You smiled and Elena walked out of here like the temperature in the room had just spiked."

Elijah smiles again, totally unrepentant. He has been aware of the effect he has on Elena since his very first days in Mystic Falls and it is entirely possible that he enjoys toying around with it a tad much.

"Klaus was doing the chasing," Liz plows on, "Trying to impress Caroline, making her the sole focus of his attention. It freaked me out as a mother to know that an Original was stalking my daughter, especially since I knew better than to tell Caroline what to do. She has always been her own person, completely independent, resolute in her decisions, for better and for worse. Once she gets her mind set on something, it's hard to get her to back down, and I know that Klaus' _fascination_ was sometimes explored. I have to admit there was this part of me relieved that she'd left to _Stanford_ , out of Klaus' reach. Every time I missed her, I would tell myself, well, at least she's made it out of this craziness unscathed." Liz stops, a sad little grin tugging at her lips. "And then a few months later, I was cleaning her closet, and I found this box. Beautiful, with this silk ribbon, clearly expensive. I had never seen it before. I don't really go snooping through Caroline's things, but I was curious. It looked like a gift box, and I didn't remember her showing it to me. It had some... Memorabilia in it. The dress she wore for that ball at your family's house. The note that came with it, asking her to save him a dance. And a drawing of her and a horse. I have no idea what the context for that was, but I imagine there was one. _Thank you for your honesty, Klaus_. That's when I realized there was a lot more to it than I ever knew."

The smile on Elijah's face tilts upwards a little more, but smooths into something lighter, more affectionate. Niklaus putting an effort into courting someone is definitely novelty. His brother usually doesn't do more than flash that boyish smile of his, bat his eyelashes and utter a few bland pleasantries, and that's when he’s trying. It’s all it takes, really. Liz isn't wrong; despite their many faults, Mikaelsons are, indeed, equipped with an unfair abundance of charm. They have to be; there's only so much raw strength and compulsion can do. To survive for as long as they have, in often the direst of circumstances, being hunted, they had to hone all of their manipulation skills. Niklaus got particularly good at it; effective, if not exactly subtle.

However, Elijah doubts his usual persuasion techniques were enough for Caroline. She might have been intrigued, but not sold. Not lured. Not completely. He had to work, to break a sweat, show her parts of himself that he'd rather keep under the safe cover of darkness, to prove himself worthy of her attention. And _that_... That is something Elijah would've paid money to see.

If he'd known that what was going on between Niklaus and the pretty blonde he’d danced with on their mother's ball was more than a simple flirt, Elijah might've stayed behind a while longer, just for the pleasure of seeing his almighty brother fumble around, wrestling his own temper as he tried to dazzle Caroline Forbes.

When he looks at the child on his lap, with tiny hands grabbing onto and pulling at his tie - her mother's radiant smile, her father's mysterious blue eyes - Elijah has no doubt that it was all worth it. And not just for Niklaus.

If only he wasn't such a self-centered, thick-headed idiot who keeps a faithful routine of self-sabotage every couple of months...

"He had an entire sketchbook filled with her," he tells Liz. "Kol found it and showed it to me, asked what I knew about her. Pages and pages. My brother is quite a skilled artist."

"Yes, he is. It's a beautiful drawing, the one I found in that box. So good it earned him a baby."

Elijah huffs out a little laugh. "I am Niklaus' greatest critic, and indeed my list of objections is endless, however... I cannot fault him for investing so ardently in his pursuit of Caroline."

"Neither can I. How could I ever blame someone for seeing my daughter for the amazing woman that she is?" Liz is quiet for a moment, a thought creasing her brow. "Can I ask you something?" Elijah arches his eyebrows, inviting her to continue. "Caroline never said it in so many words, but... From what she told me, I kind of got the impression that you... Well, that there was... Something. Feelings."

Elijah dips his head, mouth slanting into a not-quite-smile. "Nothing ever happened between us."

"I know. It's just... Well, between you and Klaus, I know what I, as a mother, would've preferred. Why did you never -"

"Make a move on the woman my brother was deeply in love with and who was carrying his child?"

Liz snorts lightly. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Elijah lifts his eyes back to her. "Caroline was one of the very few people I have met in over a thousand years who have known Niklaus' soul inside and out and still thought he was worth loving. And it reminded me of a time when I used to believe that about him, too. Her child stitched our family back together after a hundred years of estrangement. And her influence over him was good more than just because he loved her. She held him accountable for his mistakes like no one has, not even us, Rebekah and myself. She demanded more from him than he was ever willing to give, she forced him to check himself. Despite all of our differences, I cannot deny that it has made him - if not better, then at least more mindful. It's almost unconscious. Niklaus doesn't actively want to change who he is or strive to become a more decent person. If you ask him, he'll unapologetically tell you he's perfectly fine with who he is. But he can't help but follow Caroline's lead. He knows it's the only way he can be with her, and so he does. Certainly not always, and he definitely has his unorthodox and controversial ways of doing the proverbial right thing, but that's a huge compromise coming from him, and not something he would do for just about anyone. Not even me or Rebekah."

He stops, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, considering his next words. "I did... Develop certain inappropriate feelings for her. But those were never reciprocated because she was in love with Niklaus from the start, and in the end... It wouldn't have made a difference. You see, my brother is the man who would sacrifice everything and everyone for her. He's the man of the grand gestures, even extreme ones. The one who would love her as she deserves, with every ounce of his being. That is Niklaus, intense in his passions as he is in his rage. I'm... Not. I have always, and will always, put my family before myself and my own needs or desires. And I needed my brother more than I ever needed her to have feelings for me. I did struggle with it, but not for long. They were always meant for each other."

Liz smiles warmly at him. "You really are as noble as they say you are."

"Don’t be fooled, sheriff. I'm every bit as selfish and ruthless as Niklaus, he just happens to be far prouder of that. My family and I made a vow a thousand years ago, Always and Forever. Those words often take from us more than they give, but... It's why we've stood for so long. Why we survived."

“Well, for what is worth, I know my daughter cares a lot about you. And even with the magnitude of Klaus’ feelings for her, as you say, from everything I’ve heard, I’m pretty sure he needed you to be there to check him as much as he needed her.”

“You definitely won’t hear that from him.”

“Families are complicated, huh? Even I know that.”

She stands to her feet, stacking the files in front of her into a pile and moving them into a closed cases box. All of a sudden, she seems to lose her balance, dropping the files haphazardly into the box and holding on to the edge of her desk.

In a flash, Elijah's next to her, holding the baby with one arm while steadying Liz with the other. "Are you all right?" he asks, concern bleeding into his voice.

She nods slowly, sinking back down into her chair. "Yes," she says, a little breathless. "Yeah, I'm good."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"They're running a little late. Apparently, my mom chose today to tackle an entire career worth of cold cases," Caroline announces as she joins him on the front porch. Elijah should be on his way already, and Caroline was getting antsy over his lack of communication. She sounds mildly annoyed, but the little smile on her face says otherwise. "Elijah is helping."

She comes to stand beside him, letting out a rare relaxed breath as she spares a moment to take in their surroundings. The sun is setting in the horizon, bathing everything in the golden hue of its dying lights. Klaus has to admit that there is a certain charm to this place. An old wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere, Virginia, is hardly his idea of a fun getaway, but he cannot deny the allure of quietness and isolation. It reminds him of some of his favorite artistic retreats. It almost pacifies some of the never-ending pandemonium raging away in his head. Almost.

She snatches the bottle of bourbon from his hand and takes a swig of it herself.

"What about Eve?" he asks.

"She's the third investigator," she says, waggling her eyebrows at him once.

Klaus grins. "That sounds like a lot of catching up to do, though I can hazard a guess that most of those unsolved cases shouldn't be too hard to elucidate for Elijah. I'm probably the culprit in a few."

"Oh, that will leave a _great_ impression on my mom." She gives him a pointed look, which Klaus returns with a completely unrepentant one of his own. 

"Perhaps we should head back, then," Klaus offers. "I believe our work here is done. You can spend the night with your mother and drive her here in the morning with Eve. Elijah and I can allow you a head start before we invariably disrupt your peace and quiet."

The mild annoyance, tinged with concern, over the delay smooths into a little smile. "Yeah, that sounds good," she says, handing the bottle back to him. "What did you decide on the books?"

Klaus takes the bottle up to his lips. "I decided..." he speaks around a sigh, taking a swig. "That it doesn't matter."

She frowns. "What?"

"It doesn't matter what your mother chooses to read in her final precious moments. Whether it's good or bad, it's irrelevant. I could point out some of my favorites, but I have a feeling my taste for decay and ambiguous morals might be a bit dark."

Caroline swells next to him. "But you said you were going to -"

"I'm sure your mother has a favorite book," he cuts her off with a placating tone. "Maybe that's the one she'll want to read again, to bask in the comfort of a story she knows and loves, or perhaps she'll want to be surprised. Either way, the point remains the same. It does not matter. There’s nothing worse for her than basing all her choices on a countdown. It's not what life is about, the final moments." Klaus shifts his position so he's fully facing her. "The really important moments, the ones that will stay with you and give meaning to an existence, are vivid and bright, not dimmed and crippled by the twilight of life. Especially for mortals, what you do in your final days doesn't matter because life is what leads up to it, what makes you who you are, not what you become in the face of death."

Caroline's face clouds over with an acute emotion as she deflates, shoulders dropping sadly. She turns away from him, sunlight washing out the lines of her expression, but not the brightness of her eyes. "I know," she says, her voice soft but tight. "I wanted everything to be perfect. Just wanted -"

"Control?" Klaus offers. She meets his gaze again, a deep understanding passing between them. "Well, if anyone can bend death to their will... I've no doubt that it's you."

"I'm a mess," she breathes out. "I keep pretending that I have everything under control, that I can do this, but I'm on edge all the freaking time. Any tiny little thing happens and it just... Pushes me over. I guess I'm not as in charge of my heightened emotions as I thought I was."

"You're doing great, Caroline. Trust me."

"I know you're worried," she says, turning to face him. "Maybe even feeling guilty, and I appreciate that you're here, but... I'm not your responsibility, Klaus. I'm a big girl. You don't have to keep an eye on me."

"Do you honestly think that's why I'm here? Guilt?"

"Well, I can't imagine that you enjoy fixing the porch."

"I hate fixing the porch. And I did a poor job, just so you know. Elijah is rather good with these things, though, if you’d like to exploit him."

She bites down on a smile. "Then why did you? Why did you spend three months as a wolf just to watch me if you didn’t even want to talk to me?"

“Not knowing how to talk to you is not the same as not wanting to, love.”

Klaus peers at Caroline's face, sees the shadow that flickers through her expression. Her blue eyes are fierce under the orange sunlight, but he catches a glimpse of the despair ready to unfurl there. He can sense her agony, the fear she tries too hard to hide - it’s on the set of her jaw, on her tight-pressed lips, on how she almost doesn’t want to know the answer to the question she’s posed herself. Caroline is strong, so strong... But she's terrified, hurting, and Klaus wants desperately to fold her into his arms and shut her away from this evil, dreadful world that surrounds her.

He lifts a hand up to her chin, his knuckles just barely grazing her skin. “I don't know how to stay away, even when I want to. You call out to me, whether you realize it or not. I'm here because I know what it's like to lose someone you love so much that you cannot fathom eternity without them,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. Caroline's eyes widen just a tad, a new emotion flooding in. "Because I know what it's like to love someone so profoundly you can't bear to see them in pain." Klaus takes a tentative step forward, cutting the space between them as he pulls a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “And because when you left... And I thought I might never see you again... It was as though the whole world had turned grey, empty of all meaning. I did not know what to do with myself.”

Caroline's lips curl up into a soft grin. “I think we both know that I could never really hate you. Not even when I thought I did.”

“I live in constant fear that one day you will.”

She covers his hand with hers, rubbing her cheek against his palm, shifting her face to kiss his palm before leaning further into him. She shuts her eyes when their noses touch, and Klaus takes a deep breath, his entire universe contracting to this one, brilliant moment, with the sun casting its golden light upon them and Caroline Forbes in his arms. Not shaking with tears or fractured by fear; just existing in this second of reprieve, finding comfort in this tiny little refuge of their own.

Klaus wraps an arm around her waist, and Caroline molds easily to his body, like she's made for his arms, like he was made for her. A home within each other. He traces the line of her lower lip with his thumb. Without breaking eye contact, she kisses the pad of his finger, and then lifts her head, melting into him. When their lips touch, sparks fly.

Electricity travels through him, bringing every inch of his body alive. She puts a hand on the curve of his neck, and then slowly it slides up, fingers pushing into his hair. The other wraps around his shirt, fingers digging into it like she’s afraid he might disappear, like she wants to hold on to this, to him, and never let go. She yields under his ministrations, allows him to take control and find his way, and Klaus relishes the feel of her surrender, of her tongue dancing demurely against his, of tasting her again.

The kiss is soft and gentle, but burning with sentiment and need. It’s almost hypnotic, the pleasure that floods into his veins, like satiating some decades-old hunger. After three months of missing her terribly, he'd expected to be more desperate, more impatient, but the truth is he doesn't want to steal away her breath and leave her reeling. He wants to enjoy her, to take her in, to make her feel the quaking in his chest, the joyful skips of his heart. He takes his time, and Caroline obliges, glad to return it.

He wants so badly to lay himself open for her, to profess his love, make her understand that he needs her more than air. But he reigns himself in, pushing his urges down. This isn’t about him. Not now. He’s here for her. It’s all for her, even if it breathes life into his world again to have her in it.

When she pulls away with a shuddering breath, lips swollen, she peppers small kisses on his mouth, then his chin, and the line of his jaw, before nestling against him. Before she rests her head on his shoulder, her mouth touches that one spot on his throat that seems to connect to a cord straight to his heart. Klaus sighs, comfortable silence spooling out as they watch the sun go down.

"This is nice," she whispers.

"It's perfect," he replies, wishing it would never end.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It's commendable how Liz tries not to let it transpire just how completely spent she is, but she's so beyond weakened at this stage that her best efforts are far from convincing.

She was puffing just trying to go up the stairs, stopping every few steps to catch her breath. Elijah rushed to her side and, not saying a word, offered her his arm. He would've carried her, but somehow, he doesn't think the sheriff would approve of this brand of chivalry. She seems embarrassed enough just letting him help her ease herself into her bed. It makes him wonder how much of her good spirits and apparent wellness was pretend.

In all his life, Elijah had never stopped to think about the cruelty of such a mortal affliction. The disease is slowly stealing away all of Liz's agency, turning a woman who was strong and independent into a weak and hollowed shell in the space of mere weeks. She can barely trust her own legs anymore. He cannot imagine a greater frustration.

Elijah was ready to drive her to the family's cabin, but the closure of the Gilberts' case seemed to take a toll on the sheriff. Though he thinks it was hardly the unraveling of the mystery that troubled Liz so.

Not long after Elena left the station, she called back with more information she'd gotten from her brother. Apparently, the two of them had avoided conversation about the day of their parents' death all those years. The message Miranda left on Liz' phone was a joke, she said. They wanted her to pretend to arrest Jeremy after they found him with marijuana. She also remembered a storm the night before, which had ruined the family's plans to head to their lake house, raining them out. It explained not only the luggage in the trunk, but also the odd choice of route and the lack of skid marks on the road.

"The storm that dropped a power line across old Miller road, explaining why they took Wickery bridge... Which had a drainage issue before its renovation, meaning the road was probably still slick," Liz said as all the dots were finally connected.

"Slick roads, no skid marks," Elijah agreed.

The sheriff let out a sigh, her eyes unfocused for a bit, looking somewhat disheartened over the elucidation of her final case. "The storm... That was the reason." She turned to Elijah then, blinking slowly. "Would you mind calling Caroline and telling her she can surprise me tomorrow? I'm not really feeling up to taking the road tonight."

"Absolutely," he said, and stepped outside to make the call and get the car.

Even now, hours later, as she gets comfortable under her blankets, there's something still haunted about her.

"You were hoping for more today, weren't you?" he asks. "About the accident?"

"That obvious?" she speaks around an exhale. "If there had been a supernatural reason they died, it would've been easier. Would've been a reason. Something we knew we probably couldn't avoid. As it is, it was just an accident... Just a stupid accident." Her voice breaks off at the end, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears.

Elijah shifts on his feet, unsure of what to do. It's the first time he's seen her looking anything but resolute and composed. He doubts she's allowed herself to break down in front of Caroline as well. The two of them are more alike than it might seem at first glance.

After a moment, he approaches her bed, taking a seat on the edge, keeping a respectful space between them. "You were looking for someone to blame," he offers softly. "I know the feeling."

"I did everything right, Elijah. I lived a good life. I took care of my family. But I'm not ready. Caroline... And Eve..." She clamps her mouth shut, trying to swallow back the tears.

"Sometimes, truly horrid things happen to truly remarkable people. I'm so used to how cruel and vicious my world can be that I often forget that the mortal world can be just as unfair."

Liz shakes her head lightly, drying her eyes with the tips of her fingers. "I have to admit... There is a certain amount of peace knowing I'll be one of the only people in Mystic Falls to die an ordinary death." She lets out a strangled chuckle. "I'm exceptionally ordinary. And I'm ok with that. But Caroline... She's anything but."

Elijah's lips tweak into a calm smile. "You should've seen how she had the city of New Orleans wrapped around her little finger. She was a queen among men, and she never had to fight for her crown or shed a single drop of blood. She walked into a room, all eyes were on her. Everyone would stop and listen to what she had to say. Caroline simply dazzled us all."

She beams then, her face lit up with pride. "That sounds like her. She was always meant for great things. I never wanted her life to turn out the way it did, but how she made it through all that tragedy and heartache... How she matured and flourished into this brilliant woman... Caroline is even more extraordinary than I could ever expect her to be. She needs to know how sorry I am for all the times I wasn't there for her, for all my failures as a mother... And how proud I am. Being her mother has been the greatest honor of my life. She _has_ to know," she says, her voice brittle and shaky. She gives Elijah a look like a plea, begging him for a promise that he does not want to make. It's not his place. Nor should it be.

"She will know," he says instead in a manner that he hopes is reassuring. "You will tell her yourself, tomorrow. She was already on the way back when I called. For now, you should get some rest."

She nods her head shortly, and then sinks back against her pillows. When Elijah stands up, however, she grabs his pulse.

"Thank you," she says. "For being here for her. For being such a great friend to my daughter and taking care of my granddaughter. I feel better knowing that the two of them will be surrounded by Originals who care deeply for their well-being."

"These Originals would go to hell and back for your girls. They will always have me and my sister," he says, mouth quirking into a crooked grin. "Not that they'll need us. Not with the fiercest of us all right beside them."

"I was happy thinking that Caroline had gotten rid of Klaus before... Now I'm happy that she didn't."

He puts a hand on top of hers and gives her a gentle squeeze. "Get some rest. I'll go check on Eve."

Elijah gets up and walks to the door, pulling it behind him. Just before he shuts it close, however, he turns back. "Can I get you anything else?" he asks, but Liz has already closed her eyes, her head tipped to the side over her shoulder, her lips slightly parted. She seems to be asleep, but... That was a bit fast. She was talking to him just a second ago.

"Liz?" he tries again, louder this time.

She doesn’t reply.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline is barely aware of thinking as she storms into the ER like a hurricane, her heart hammering away inside her skull.

Her eyes are electric as she walks over to the reception, her desperate voice registering as background noise to her own ears. "Elizabeth Forbes, what room is she in?" she demands.

The last half hour has both gone by in a blink and lasted an eternity. Caroline felt trapped, locked in this near catatonic state where she couldn't speak, couldn't think, could only try to remember how to breathe. The word _no_ was chanted nonstop in her mind, somewhere between a mantra and a plea. _No_ , she can't be dead. _No,_ she can't be gone. _No,_ it's not her time yet. _No, no, no, please, God, no._

Caroline has stopped believing in God a long time ago, but if there is a higher force out there, she has begged and implored and bargained with it for mercy on her mother. _Give her more time. Just a little more time. Please, she needs to have more time. I’ll give anything, I’ll do anything. Please._..

_I need to have more time._

When she blinked out of her despair-induced daze, they were already at the hospital and she was dashing inside before she even knew what she was doing.

"Caroline." She turns around at the sound of her name, only noticing that it's Elijah when she sees him.

"Where is she?"

He motions towards the corridor, and Caroline speeds down it like a cannonball.

"She fell asleep," Elijah is speaking behind her, his voice small and distant, a mere rustle underneath the _boom, boom, boom_ of her heart. "I couldn't wake her up. The doctors said she slipped into a coma."

She looks from side to side, searching for her mother's room, until she spots Liz' figure from a window. Caroline comes to halt, and so does everything inside of her. So does the entire world.

Her mother looks so small in that bed, needles stuck to her arms, the low _beep, beep, beep_ of the machine following her heartbeats. The sound is so weak, so fragile... So far away from Liz Forbes' lion heart.

"They said they can make her comfortable," Elijah says. He sounds gentle, but it slashes through her chest anyway. _Make her comfortable_. The worst ever code for _She's not waking up_. How can anybody be comfortable when they're dying? There's nothing comfortable about death.

A violent shudder runs down her spine, and Caroline feels as though the floor has been yanked out from under her. She clamps her mouth shut, her face crumpling up as hot tears well up in her eyes. She doesn't trust herself not to start screaming if she opens her mouth.

With unsteady steps, Caroline enters the room, slowly, stopping by Liz's bed. She looks like she's just asleep.

"I didn't get to say goodbye..." she blurts out, words clawing out of her throat. "I didn't get to say goodbye to my mom."

The sobs wreck through her then, tearing her apart as her legs give in and she breaks down on the bed next to her mother's immovable body.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Helplessness is such a suffocating feeling.

Klaus' chest is overflown with despair as he sees the pain carved deeply into Caroline's features. It rubs him so wrong, so out of place, a mar in her sunny disposition, a bruise on a face that was made for nothing but smiles. He has this anger bubbling up inside of him, his most deep-sated instincts telling him to thrash and break and destroy, to rip the whole world to shreds. But whose limbs is he going to tear apart? What is he going to burn into the ground? There is no enemy to fight, no army to defeat. There's nothing anyone can do in order to stop the inevitable or avenge it.

Mortals die. That's their predicament. It doesn't matter how magnificent a life they live or how righteous and honorable they remain 'till their final breaths, they all perish.

He remembers he once told Rebekah that if she wanted to have a real human experience, she should stand idly by and watch as her little friend took her final shuddery breaths. _You can ask, why does this always happen to innocent people? Was there anything I could've done?_ Klaus could've never thought these taunts would come back to haunt him.

He feels pitifully human now, claustrophobic in his uselessness. The strongest creature to ever roam this earth, and nothing to do while violent sobs wreck through the woman he loves, her heart lacerated by loss and grief.

This is maddening. How does anyone live like this?

"I called Elena Gilbert, asked her to let the others know," Elijah says, materializing next to Klaus. He didn't even notice his brother's approach, so distracted he is, eyes fixed on Caroline as she holds her mother's hand. Klaus hasn't dared to go inside the room yet, disturb whatever fleeting minutes they still have together.

"What have the doctors said?" he asks.

"She's stable, but..." Elijah trails off.

Klaus' face tightens. "How much longer?"

"Not long. The hospital says she has a DNR." Klaus shuts his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his mouth. He can only imagine what will be of Caroline when the line on that beeping machine connected to her mother goes flat. "Maybe you should go inside," Elijah says.

"I don't know what to do," Klaus admits, casting a defeated look at his brother.

"No one does. But sometimes, it's not about what you do, Niklaus." Elijah nods his head towards Caroline and turns on his heels.

It takes Klaus a moment after Elijah disappears down the corridor to gather his bearings and finally enter the room. Caroline's sobs have been reduced to hitching breaths, but her chin still quivers, quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.

Her pain travels in the air, sinking into him. Klaus feels it penetrating his lungs and his chest, his heart cracking with the anguish scribbled across her features. It's crushing. Destructive. Makes him want to start taking bites out of everything and everyone until Caroline stops hurting.

"I should've been with her," she speaks after a moment. Her voice lacks substance, drained away.

"You didn't know, sweetheart," he offers as gently as he knows how.

"But I knew she didn't have much time left. What was I thinking, staying away for a whole day like that..." Her voice cracks up, face crumpling up as a new hot wave of grief comes crashing upon her.

Klaus' heart tears up with her anguish. "Caroline..."

"I'm her daughter, Klaus," she slams furiously. "I was supposed to know better. She was sick and I made this about myself, about what _I_ wanted. I should've given her peace and convinced her that I would be ok and thanked her for being the most amazing mom. _God_ , I don't even remember the last thing I said to her."

Klaus is quiet for a moment. "I love you." Caroline's face whips around at him with a question, like she's ready to throw something at him. "The last thing you said to her was I love you, when you hung up the phone. I heard you."

Her face softens then, from the brink of anger to a measure of gratitude, but when she looks back to her mother, heartache is all there is. "I was supposed to be with her in her final moments.”

"You still can." Caroline looks at him with her brows bunched again, and Klaus takes a step closer. "Come here."

She stands to her feet and Klaus gently handles her so that she's facing her mother. He positions himself behind her, putting both his hands on her shoulders. "Close your eyes," he says softly. Caroline obliges, sucking in a sobby breath. "Think about your favorite memory of her."

"I... I don't know, there's too many."

"It's ok. Just relax." He smooths his hands down her arms to soothe her until he feels her muscles loosening at last. "Open your mind to your heart, Caroline. You will be in her memories."

Her eyes fly open as she turns to him. "We can do that?"

“Take her hand." Caroline wraps her fingers tightly around Liz' hands and closes her eyes again. Klaus guides Caroline towards breaching through her mother's subconscious, and when he knows she's there, that she can see through her mother's eyes, he takes a step back.

This is for the two of them only.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

They're at the cabin. It's a lovely autumn day, the woods painted in red and brown and yellow. Caroline remembers this day... It's seared onto her memory.

She is riding her bike, and Liz is holding her. Caroline threw a tantrum and a half when her mother took off her training wheels, but Liz insisted that she should give it a try.

"I want to stop," she whines.

"If you stop, you'll never learn, sweetie," Liz replies with that air of infinite patience of hers.

"I don't want to learn!"

"Yes, you do."

"I can't do this, mom!"

"Just pedal, sweetie. Keep pedaling."

"I'm gonna fall!"

"I'm holding you up, sweetheart. You can't fall."

"I'm scared! I want my other wheels back on."

"Keep pedaling, Caroline. You can do it."

"Don't let go, mommy."

"I won't. Not 'till you're ready."

"Don't let go yet! I'm not ready."

Caroline pedals away, totally unaware that her mother has let go long before. Her own memories of this moment are slightly different, the part where she realized she was on her own and panicked, losing control of the bike and toppling over onto the grass, stronger than this bit. But these aren't her memories; these are Liz's.

She can see the proud smile on her mother's face as she watches Caroline, can see the joy on the crinkles around her eyes. "Yes, you are," she whispers under breath.

“Mom,” she hears herself breathe out, but there is no sound. Caroline tries to reach her, to pull her into her arms, but she’s no more than an invisible observer here.

Suddenly, the memory fades into black and Caroline feels a sharp tug, pulling her out of her mother's mind. She tries to resist, to go back, but it's as though she's swimming against the current. When she opens her eyes, she's back at the hospital room, her mother's hand still clasped tightly between hers. She blinks slowly, the tears hanging off her lashes dropping onto her cheeks.

The heart monitor starts screaming, its low beeping turning into a constant sound as the line goes flat. "Mom?" Caroline calls lowly. She breaks into a painful sob again. When she turns back, searching for Klaus, she realizes that everyone is there. Elijah, Elena, Stefan, Damon and even Matt. "She's gone," Caroline says, her voice trickling into air, her whole body feeling suddenly incorporeal, just a mass of pain and tears.

She leans over her mother's body, laying her head on her chest. The whole world seems to mute around her, engulfed by the deafening silence of her mother's heartbeats.

Liz Forbes exists now only in the past.

Caroline doesn't even notice when someone turns off the machine.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two songs to go with this chapter that add a lot of depth to the scenes. I've read them with the music playing in the background and it's 10/10.
> 
> On the scene where Caroline and Klaus kiss, **[If I Knew How to Hold You by Andrew Belle](https://open.spotify.com/track/4WBALtRcBYVL715MlpLYRl?si=5JpEzf8kTUCSx81Fex_hsA)**.  
> On the scene where Liz dies, **[Prayer by Keaton Henson.](https://open.spotify.com/track/7bY5R1aMqo72yntoqhw72e?si=dT6ynigAT6KqCrXXq7LIhg)**
> 
> ___
> 
> So... I'm almost afraid to ask. 😂 I know many of you wanted me to take this on a completely different way, but I was true to my decision to remain as close to canon as I possibly could, as has been the case with the whole story. I did make several small changes to the very way the thing was built, so I do hope those of you who did watch TVD noticed. 
> 
> There were many KC moments in this chapter, and Uncle Elijah and Detective Eve were also little stars, but Liz's death was not easy to write. I tried to do it as respectfully as I could. I really, REALLY hope you guys enjoyed it and I would very much like to hear it if that's the case! I'm so nervous, you guys, you have no idea. :(
> 
> Don't need to tell you that next chapter is the Funeral.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	27. S02E27 Let Her Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so, so, so much to all of you for your sweet and kind messages after last chapter! 💖 I was SO nervous about that one and your support meant the world to me! I'm more chill about this one, but still somewhat nervous and really you liked the end result.
> 
>  **Warning** : extreme angst ahead and lost of mentions of loss and grief. This is the funeral chapter, so you know what to expect. Please, please, if this is in any way triggering for you, proceed with care. 💖
> 
> Thank you so, so much to **recyclingss** and **coveredinthecolors** for their advice, holding my hand and reading this and assuring me that it was good. 💖
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it! :)

* * *

Caroline wakes up with her head pounding.

Almost instantly, she is gripped by a strong sense of unreality, like the world is somehow scrambled out of order or she’s fallen through a rabbit hole and ended up in the wrong place.

She was having a dream.

She was riding her bike and turned her head to look at her mother, who should’ve been right behind her, holding her steady, only to realize that Liz was not there. And neither were her training wheels. Panic overcame her in a wave, and she lost control of her bike, crashing on the lawn, just short of hitting a tree. She was crying before she hit the ground.

Liz came rushing to her aid, little Caroline bawling her eyes out. It didn't hurt so much as it scared her.

"Let me see, sweetie," Liz said, pulling on the arm Caroline hit on the fall. The little scratch on her elbow was barely noticeable, but the scare made it feel as though she’d almost lost a limb. "Ok, I've got Band-Aids, surgical gear and a Medvac en route for an air lift."

Caroline pouted, sniffing. "You're making fun of me."

"No, sweetheart. I'm making fun of me," Liz said with a smile. "There is no greater first than watching your kid ride without training wheels -"

"Ouch!" she yelped as her mother cleaned the scratch with a little gauze she produced from her pocket. Of course she had been ready with emergency items in case things went south. Liz was always ready.

"And no worst first than seeing them bite the dust." She put the Band-Aid on. Like magic, it didn't hurt so bad anymore.

"Mommy?" Caroline asked, tears pooling on the tip of her nose.

"Yes?"

"Am I gonna die?"

Liz hummed thoughtfully. "I would say your chances of survival are 100%."

"Are you gonna die?"

There was a pause. "Well... Everyone dies eventually, sweetie, but... Not for a long, long time."

"But what if you die and I'm still here?"

"Then you'll be all grown up and you won't need me anymore."

"That's not true," she protested. "I will always need you."

Something chills inside of Caroline. It wasn't a dream, which is why she can remember it so vividly. It was a memory. The day her mother taught her how to ride a bike without the training wheels. The same memory she was pulled into when she went inside her mother’s head, only this was what she remembered from that day herself.

It was such a random memory to unearth from her mother... Caroline wonders if Liz had been thinking about that when she slipped into a coma. If that was something that brought her peace. To Caroline, that day had been about the crash, about the pain and the fear and how betrayed she'd felt; to Liz, it had been about pride, about seeing her daughter going off on her own for the first time.

She feels a wet warmth on her cheeks and lifts a hand to her face. She didn't realize she was crying.

It takes a second for her to break through the haze in her brain, enough for her to blink her surroundings into focus.

She's at the Salvatores' living room, and so is everyone else, all soundly asleep. They left an entire couch just for her and spread around the room; they didn't want to bother her, but also didn't want to leave her alone. Matt is sitting on the floor, with his back against the couch and his legs stretched out before him. Stefan crashed on an armchair. Elijah is on the couch across from her, with Elena resting beside him, her feet almost on his lap. When Caroline pushes up into a sitting position, she finds Klaus on the big armchair facing the fireplace. Eve sleeps nestled on her father's chest, held firmly in his arms.

As soon as she puts her feet on the carpeted floor, she feels this coldness creeping up her legs and coiling around her stomach. The last 24 hours come crashing down on Caroline without mercy. The reality of her mother's loss drops inside of her like a hook, dragging her under.

Everything that happened after the nurses covered her mother's body with a sheet and wheeled her away went by in a daze. She doesn't really know how she ended up at the Boarding House, only that she hadn't wanted to go back home. Klaus and Elijah went to get Eve while someone else brought her here. Stefan. Or maybe it was Damon. She doesn’t know. She thinks she had her daughter in her arms when she fell asleep, but maybe that was a dream, too.

Caroline stands to her feet, wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself against the chill that comes from somewhere within her. She walks carefully not to wake anybody, stepping over Matt's legs and going around Stefan's armchair. Her throat is dry as a desert, coarse like sandpaper. It feels like a hangover, but she didn’t have a single drop of alcohol the night before. All the crying must have left her dehydrated.

She pads slowly to the kitchen and comes to a halt by the door when she finds Damon there, hunched over a notebook, surrounded by dozens of crumpled pieces of paper.

"Sorry," she says when he turns to her. "I, uhm... Just want some water."

"Help yourself," he replies, his voice almost soft. She feels a bit of a sting; even Damon is being nice to her. It's a testament to how wrong the world is without Liz in it.

She walks over to the sink, filling up a glass. She drinks the whole thing almost at once, and then fills it again.

"Can you believe your mother entrusted me to eulogize her?" Damon breaks the ice, a hint of a smile on his voice even though he has his back turned to her.

"Oh. That's... Nice, I guess." She wasn't aware of that, wonders when exactly Liz asked him to do it. It makes sense, she guesses, since they were so close. A friendship Caroline never had in her to undo, afraid of what knowing the truth about Damon would do to her mother.

There are very few people in this world Damon actually gives a damn about, and within that very small pool, there are even less he would actually go out of his way to be nice to. Not even Stefan gets that privilege. But Liz Forbes, for whatever inexplicable reason, did. Caroline would rather have Liz as a friend to Damon, than make him her enemy. If he didn't care for her, she could've easily ended up one of his victims, expendable just as everyone else. As it was, Damon actually kept her safe.

"I think she was trying to teach me a lesson about my own mother," Damon continues after a moment. "I was supposed to do the eulogy at her funeral, and I just -"

"We don't have to share," Caroline cuts him off none too gently. There's only so much she can tolerate from Damon. He was a friend of her mother's, and Caroline can respect that. If not wholeheartedly, then at least so that her mother's death doesn't spiral into something else. Making her grief about Damon is absolutely the last thing she needs right now. But so is being nice to him. They can be civil, and that's as far as she'll go.

Damon looks back at her, a rare diffident look on his face. "Right."

"I just mean... Today is pretty much gonna be one of the worst days of my life. I'm not sure I need to start it off by bonding with you. No offense."

"None taken," he says, returning his attention to his notebook.

Caroline puts the glass down and moves to walk out of the kitchen, but Damon calls her back. "Blondie," he says, and for once he doesn't sound disdainful or sneering. Caroline stops, turns around. It's probably the first time ever that she sees compassion in the icy blue of his eyes. "Today isn't the worst day of your life. Today and tomorrow, it's a cakewalk. There will be people around you day in and day out like they're afraid to leave you alone. The worst day is next week, when there's nothing but quiet, and life still goes on. Just a heads up."

Caroline nods her head slowly. "Thanks for the tip."

Damon twists his lips in acknowledgement and then returns to his eulogy. She makes her way to the living room, with his words echoing loudly in her skull.

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"You've all asked what you can do to help," Caroline announces, waving a yellow notepad in the air. "There are five days’ worth of projects here, and we are going to do them in one day."

Somehow, while they all dozed off, spread across the living room, Caroline got up and started compiling lists. She apparently has her mother's funeral all figured out. Which is not in itself worrisome; it’s not unlike her. What concerns Elijah is how upbeat she suddenly seems to be. Denial is screaming through the cracks on her mask of geniality. A quick survey around the room tells him he's not the only one burdened by this; a ripple of disquiet passes between them, though no one dares to question her.

Niklaus, standing beside him, seems awfully troubled, his lips pressed into a strained line, his dark and unblinking eyes fixed on Caroline while she holds their daughter and presents her plan to an attentive audience.

"We can break the rules and cut through the red tape," she continues. "I expect my mom to be properly celebrated and buried by the end of the day."

"Sure, Care," the quarterback agrees, nodding his head with a bit too much vigor for it to be entirely honest. "Whatever you need."

"Elena, you're coming with me," Caroline says.

"Where are we going?"

"Casket shopping," she replies with a grin. Niklaus flinches almost imperceptibly. "Ok, here's the list." Caroline hands the notepad over to Elijah. "Check your tasks and let's move. I'll just see if this little one needs a diaper change. Elijah, can you drive her home? I already called the sitter."

"Of course."

"Great! Thanks!"

Cooing gentle words to Eve, Caroline walks out. A hefty silence falls upon the room, awkward glances exchanged all around.

Elijah draws the air in before he starts reading Caroline's plans. "Matthew," he calls. "You and Stefan are in charge of the reception at the Mystic Grill."

"On it," Stefan says promptly.

"It also says here _Call Tyler_."

"No one is going to call that half-breed sod," Klaus cuts in, casting a death glare towards the Mystic gang.

"He is our friend and he cared about Liz," Matthew argues, squaring his shoulders as though that could actually intimidate Niklaus. "He and Caroline have talked it out."

Klaus turns to him, eyes flashing gold. "Let me rephrase that so your quarterback brain can grasp it. I see his pathetic weasel’s face here, I'll take care of him myself."

The boy swells in anger, his face reddening like a tomato. "Care wants him to -"

"Caroline is clearly not in her right mind at the moment and I am _not_ in the mood to be cordial," Klaus speaks over him, temper quickly fraying.

"Matt," Stefan steps in before the apparently suicidal busboy can get himself into a fight that he obviously won't win. "Let's sort out the Grill."

Fuming, Matt whips around and storms out of the room. Stefan gives Elijah a look that says, quite loudly, _Contain him_ , and then follows.

Knowing his brother, Elijah can tell he's just _dying_ for a chance to tear something apart with his teeth right now, which means his determination to keep Tyler Lockwood away might actually be an act of mercy on his part.

With that situation sorted, Elijah goes back to the list. "Damon, I assume, is working on the eulogy," he says, looking at Elena with a question.

"Yes," she confirms.

"What about me?" Klaus asks.

"You are with me. We need to expedite the funeral arrangements. And also tick off some of the other things Caroline assigned for herself." Under her name and respective tasks, Caroline added _Hospital expenses_ and _Order flowers_ , both things he and Niklaus can take care of for her.

His brother seems somewhat crestfallen, not at all happy to let Caroline out of his sight, but unwilling to openly defy her. This, Elijah thinks, is Niklaus' existential limbo. That grey area where he doesn't know whether to respect a grieving person's wishes and allow her space or to simply force his presence and care upon her, to show his support whether she wants it or not.

"Elena," Klaus says, turning to the girl. She blinks at him, her eyes wide in surprise at the sound of her name in such a solemn manner coming from him. "Please... Look after her."

“You don’t have to ask," she replies. "Caroline and I have been looking out for each other since we were kids. She was there for me when my parents died. But maybe you should think about what _looking out for her_ really means. This isn't about you, Klaus, or how you feel or what you want."

Elena fixes him with a piercing glare and then stalks off, disappearing up the stairs of the mansion, after Caroline. Klaus turns to him with a confused crease on his forehead.

"What was that?"

"She is right, you know. It really isn't about you."

“Am I supposed to just let that son of a -”

“Niklaus,” he cuts him off. “Not about you means _you_ are supposed to just nothing. It’s Caroline’s decision.”

Klaus lets out a deep, dejected sigh, his shoulders dropping. "I don't know what to do," he admits in an uncharacteristic small voice.

"For now..." Elijah shows him the list. "You can do this."

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"Your mother was such a vibrant woman, even after your father ran off."

Caroline stares at the woman shaking her hand in disbelief and at a complete loss for words. What are you supposed to say to something like that?

"Thank you, Mrs. McGruder. I'm sure we'll see you at the funeral," Elena intrudes, saving Caroline the pain of coming up with an answer by dragging her away.

This is pure torture. Not just the sympathy handshakes and the awkward conversations, but everything. Looking at _caskets_ and trying to think of what kind of finish her mother would prefer - it makes her sick.

All day, Caroline's allowed the practical side of her brain to take over, keep her functioning through her tasks, get all the pieces of her cogwheel moving in some semblance of coordination so that her mother can get the service she deserves. But below that layer of practical thinking, underneath all the rationality, there's a screaming in her head for all of this to stop. There's a side of her threatening to crumble, and it'll take the rest of her down with it when it inevitably gives in. It's a matter of time, Caroline thinks. Of seconds ticking into minutes ticking into hours, if she's lucky. She might even get another day or two before the chips on her composed exterior become so great a little foundation and a practiced smile won’t be able to cover it up anymore. Already she can feel herself coming apart at the edges.

And all the while, Damon's voice thunders through her mind. _Today isn't the worst day of your life._ Despite her low opinions on the eldest Salvatore, Caroline can believe that he actually meant well, was just trying to prepare her for what's to come. To her, however, it sounded ominous and an awful lot like a threat.

Today she has Elena, Elijah, Klaus. Even Stefan and Matt are helping out. Hell, even freaking _Damon_. But what happens next week? Or the one after? What happens when Klaus decides to go back to New Orleans? How much longer is he going to stay, anyway?

Now that her mother's gone, what’s keeping him from going back to _his_ home? If Liz hadn’t fallen ill, he might’ve never showed up, stayed as a wolf for a while longer until eventually he’d get tired of it and decide to make his way back to the French Quarter. Caroline knows how much he loves that place. His whole life is there. She'd like to think that he's going to be in Mystic Falls for as long as she needs him to - hell, _forever_ , if needed be. But that seems like an awful long shot.

They kissed, and he said all those incredibly nice, heartwarming things, which gave her some hope, but... He also said something about Eve having two houses. So which is it? Is he staying or is he going?

The doubt only adds to Caroline's growing fear. If she can barely keep herself together through today, when everyone is here for her, what happens when they all go back to their lives, and it's just her, Eve and a house full of gut-punching memories? She's terrified of being left on her own, to be an even worse mother than she's already being at the moment, and the idea that Klaus might be driving back to Louisiana tomorrow makes her want to retch.

"Welcome to the world of awkward sympathies," Elena says with the easy practice of someone who’s been through this countless times. "That's why you have to be prepared with your responses. People are just gonna keep coming, and it’s better for you if you can just switch the auto-pilot. I recommend at least three different responses. They will be different for each category of people in your life - friends of circumstance, casual acquaintances, loved ones."

"Klaus and I kissed," she blurts out, the words rolling off her tongue without command.

Elena stops, turns back to her. "Ok," she drawls. "Well. I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to react here. My instincts tell me to grab you and shake you, but my head says that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"It's a little late for shaking," Caroline mumbles. "I don't know what it meant."

"The kiss?"

"Does it mean we're back or... Does he even want to get back together? Is he still going back to New Orleans after the funeral?”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but… He’s been around for a while, and I don’t think he has any other reason besides, you know… _You_. That means he’s invested, no?”

“He mentioned he wanted to buy a bike for Eve so she'd think he's the cool parent when she visits."

Elena arches her eyebrows. "Well... That's... Not great, I guess."

"But that was before we kissed."

Her friend opens and closes her mouth wordlessly before puffing out. "Honestly, I wish I had something constructive to say, but I have zero understanding of Klaus."

"I don't know what category to put him in. I mean... Loved one, sure - don't make that face, Elena. But is he a friend or...?" she trails off, looking at her friend with a kind of desperate plea.

Elena puts both her hands on Caroline's shoulders, catching her eyes. "Talk to him tomorrow. You already have a lot on your plate. I'm sure he'll be fine whatever category you put him in."

Caroline scoffs. "Have you met Klaus?" She shakes her head then, waving the thoughts away as she starts to walk again, picking up her pace. "We're behind schedule. Let's go."

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Elijah checks his black tie in front of the mirror, makes sure it's perfectly aligned, the knot tied to a fault. Like a ghoul, his brother appears behind him, sporting the same scowl he's had imprinted on his face all day long.

As the two of them went from site to site, trying to sort as many items on Caroline's list as possible, arranging for all expenses to go straight to them, Niklaus remained uncharacteristically quiet, lost in his own turbulent thoughts. The resounding silence did not keep him from being incredibly efficient. Wherever bureaucracy tried to slow them down, Klaus simply took a step forward and compelled his way through the paperwork. No time to waste. And throughout the whole thing, he had that scowl carved onto his face. 

Elena stopped by a while back to get Caroline's clothes and shoes, said she'd be getting ready for the service at the Salvatores', obviously still avoiding the house. “All things considered,” Elena said in a tune that unfortunately lacked confidence, “she's not the worst.”

Elijah assured her they'd get Eve and meet both of them at the church. Klaus didn't utter a single word, simply watched the exchange with steel in his eyes and a clenched jaw, but the ridges across his forehead spoke volumes.

"Something on your mind, Niklaus?" he asks casually.

"I need your advice.” He barely opens his mouth to grumble, words tumbling out all mauled together, like it pains him to say it.

Elijah turns to him, cocking his head. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Klaus glares. "I said advice, Elijah, not your sarcastic come-backs. I'm serious."

"And I’m shocked. But let’s hear it. What kind of advice do you seek?"

His eyes flicker away for a moment, a near bashful air about his stance. "Caroline and I... We kissed. At the cabin, we had a... Moment."

Elijah blinks at him, waiting for the rest of the story. There has to be something, if he's so obviously troubled to the point he'd _ask for advice_. He cannot remember the last time his brother actively sought him out for an honest opinion. The fact he and Caroline would eventually sort through their differences is not exactly astonishing news, so... What else?

When Klaus fails to provide any more information, Elijah prods, "And?"

"What do you mean, and? And then her mother died and I don't know where that leaves us. It was just a kiss. What is expected of me now? Should I go back to New Orleans once the funeral is over, let her be, take her time? Should I relocate to Mystic Falls? Should I ask her to go home with me, which is, ideally, what I would want? Or say nothing at all and just stand idly by while she makes the decisions on her own?" he says, an exasperated tune that sounds completely alien on Niklaus’ voice.

If Elijah wasn't so sour still with Niklaus, he might find it in him to relish this moment. His little brother, the Original Hybrid, King of New Orleans, fretting over having no clue on how to do _relationships_ after a _kiss_. How so very human of him.

"Are you not saying anything?" Klaus demands moodily when he stays quiet for a moment too long. "This is out of my comfort zone, Elijah. I don't know what to do."

"Human empathy is certainly not one of your strongest suits, brother. And neither is tact. No one expects you to excel at it," he says. Niklaus purses his lips grumpily. Elijah approaches him, the twisted and askew knot on his tie getting on his nerves. "It's a wonder how you never learned how to tie your knots properly. You'd think a thousand years would be more than enough time."

Klaus shoves his hands away. "Who cares about bloody ties, Elijah. I need to know what to do. Caroline just lost her mother, she's falling apart. I can't just shrug and wait for things to settle on their own. Moreover, I _don't want to_. But I don’t want to ruin things again. I don’t want to… Hurt her. Or suffocate her. You told me not to make this about myself, but _how_?"

Elijah sighs. His concern is rather commendable; his near authoritarian approach to it, however, terribly flawed. "She is falling apart. And she will. And you should be there for her, if that's what she wants. If she requires some space, give her that. Don't pressure her, don't let your needs and your own anxiety trump hers. Your relationship is not the most important thing right now. She needs to grieve, and she will do that in her own terms. The loss of a mother, Niklaus... Is too great a pain. It's ripping apart the very fabric of her world, of everything she's always known. We developed the habit of getting rid of our parents several times over, but this would be the same as... When you lost her. Except she can't turn into a wolf and hide in the woods, waiting for the dust to settle, so you're going to have to let her do this her own way."

Elijah sees a dozen different emotions flickering through his brother's gaze, and, for once, none of them is anger. Though frustration is surely there. He seems so genuinely at loss Elijah feels almost sorry for him. Or he would, if it was anyone else but Niklaus.

"How do I find out what she wants?" he asks in as small a voice as he could possibly muster. Nothing about Niklaus is ever dimmed, but the fact he's willing to listen and heed Elijah's advice is... Quite something, indeed.

"You will know," he says simply, and goes back to fixing his tie. He can't let him show up to Elizabeth Forbes' funeral looking like a pitiful drunkard. "The most important thing, brother, is that you realize that today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and so many more to come, are entirely about her. I know you struggle with letting other people outshine you, but do try to keep that in mind. And whatever happens, don't try to solve this today. Let her have today."

He takes a step back once he's sufficiently satisfied with his work. Presentable enough. "Are you ready?"

"No," he mumbles, already turning around. "I'll go get Eve."

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Something hot and dark curls inside of Klaus when he catches a familiar, putrid stench in the air, one he should’ve been rid of a long time ago.

Even in a packed church, he can still recognize the unpleasant smell of that little vermin, Tyler Lockwood.

However low his opinions on Tyler might be, he did at the very least think he had half a brain in him and would not dare to show his hideous face in his presence ever again. Klaus can't give a damn if he's groveled at Caroline's feet, begging for forgiveness. Her heart is far too generous and forgiving for her own good; Tyler is simply not worthy of a pardon, let alone of being allowed into the church in the appalling state he is. The pungent stink of alcohol is almost as unpleasant as his natural wet dog reek.

Klaus leaves Eve with Elijah, solemnly ignoring his brother's questioning look as he steps outside for a moment. He doesn't expect this encounter to take long. He finds Tyler tumbling his way up the front steps, looking every bit as pathetic as Klaus knows him to be at his core, that golden boy façade long shattered. He has deep shadows under his glazed over eyes like he hasn't slept in a week; his rumpled suit and tie would give Elijah a stroke.

"Tyler Lockwood," he greets with disdain, relishing the way the man stops dead on his unsteady tracks. Tyler's whole body goes stiff, and Klaus wouldn't be surprised if he'd suddenly sobered up. Fear has that effect on cowards.

"Klaus," he says, a strained sound imbued in anger for show, but marred by inherent fright.

"I'd say it's nice to see you, but that would be a blatant lie, considering I issued a warning against you being here today."

"Look, man... I just want to pay my respects," Tyler says, putting his palms out in a pathetic placating gesture.

"You can do that from right there. Say a prayer, turn around and walk away."

"I'm not a hybrid anymore, alright? I'm just... A man. Haven’t even triggered the curse,” Tyler says by means of justification. Like that makes any difference.

"Yes, I can tell." Klaus' eyes run up and down the other man with nothing but disgust. If there was any way Tyler could make himself even more loathsome... "You were my last living hybrid. I suppose I should feel that's a pity, but I realized only too late that it was a mistake to ever grant you that gift. You never quite learned how to appreciate it."

"Appreciate it?" Tyler scoffs with derision, his eyes flashing with that temper of his. "You killed me and then you turned me into a slave."

Klaus rolls his eyes at him. "Enough with this slavery drivel. I set you free, and you still did everything wrong - especially by the girl inside, sitting on the front row with her heart in shatters. The one you tried to murder while she was pregnant. Ring any bells?"

Tyler's eyes flicker away, face darkening with shame. "I was in a bad place," he mutters. "I've apologized to Care."

 _Care_. It makes Klaus bristle just to hear him address her with such intimacy.

"Your _bad place_ could've costed her life and that of my daughter," he snaps, the last bits of his patience waning away fast. "She may be merciful, but I am not. I spared your pitiful life one too many times on her behalf, and you repaid it by trying to hurt her."

"I'm not going to hurt her!" Tyler yells at him, then snaps his mouth shut when he realizes he's in no position to fight Klaus. His face contorts as though he’s in pain. "I just... Liz was like a mom to me growing up. She got me out of a lot of trouble. I'm not gonna let you tell me that I can't say goodbye to her."

Tyler squares his shoulders and continues to march up the stairs, trying to walk past Klaus.

The ironic thing is, Klaus could easily beat him into a pulp and leave him squirming on the ground like a worm in hot sand, and he would _delight_ in doing so, but he doesn't even have to. He just puts a hand out, pushing Tyler back with no more than ordinary human strength, and Tyler goes rolling down the steps like a dog.

Klaus’ face twists with revulsion as he stares down at the other man slowly pulling himself together. "The only reason I won't kill you right here and now, Tyler, is because of Caroline. Today is about her, not about how I personally feel regarding your sorry excuse for a life. I might even have allowed you into that church, provided you kept your distance from my daughter and her mother. But you can barely stand on your feet. You've caused Caroline nothing but pain during your _romance_ and after, and she chose to forgive you every single time. She deserves more at her own mother's funeral. I suggest you go elsewhere to get yourself sobered up, then perhaps you can head to the cemetery and pay your respects once everyone else has left. Try getting into this church, and I promise you it'll be the last thing you do. Understood?"

Klaus’ lips twist with a sneer before he swivels around and goes back to the church.

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The officiant has already gone up to the podium when he slides in besides Elijah on the front row bench. Eve immediately reaches out to him.

"Where were you?" Elijah whispers as he lets the baby slide over to Klaus. He accommodates her on his lap and she snuggles up against him, sleepy.

"Sorting out a minor inconvenience," he offers simply.

Klaus peers around him to check on Caroline, shooting Elijah a displeased glance as he does so. He was sitting next to her when he sensed Lockwood's presence and was very specific in his request for Elijah to save his spot when he excused himself. Apparently, his thousand-year-old brother couldn't keep a teenage vampire from stealing his seat. Elena has taken his place, settled between Elijah and Caroline, and is firmly holding her friend's hand.

"Lose the pout, Niklaus. It's unbecoming on a grown man," Elijah throws mildly.

Before Klaus has a chance to hiss back some discourtesy at his brother, the officiant’s voice rings loud inside the church.

"We are gathered here today to pay our tribute and our respect to a pillar of our community, our sister, our protector... Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes," the man says, motioning to the photograph of a smiling Liz wearing her uniform placed on the altar, next to the closed casket. "We're also here today to show our love and support for Liz's family and friends."

While he continues with his sermon, Klaus looks behind his shoulder, taking a quick survey around. It's a rather big church for such a small town, and he can't imagine the place gets crowded too often, but it is today. Not a single seat available. Some late comers are even standing at the back. Liz Forbes was a popular figure among the townsfolk, not that Klaus didn't already know that. Not only was she a charismatic leader within her community, a trait her daughter has inherited in heaps, she was also from one of the founding families and an active member of the council.

Klaus can see a few familiar faces scattered between the rows of seats, people he remembers from his brief period trying to make political concessions as he established himself in town, as well as other members of Caroline’s gang. Matt Donovan is there, as are Jeremy Gilbert, Alaric Saltzman and the doctor who signed on Liz's death certificate, Jo something. She sits next to Alaric, a couple of rows behind Caroline, the two of them pressed close together. The moment the history teacher senses Klaus' eyes on him, his entire posture changes. Not a big fan, that one.

Inevitably, his attention drifts over to a couple of seats to his right. The partial view of Caroline’s profile is enough for him to tell there's nothing honest on the perfectly straight face she's keeping. She stands fixed in her grief, holds herself with utmost dignity, but Klaus can see the backbreaking effort to keep the pain that shimmers behind her eyes, harsh and adamant, from edging her features. He knows the feeling too intimately to be fooled by the defiance in her gaze or the set jaw, not to notice the evidence on the drawdown curve of her lips or the faint line between her brows.

Klaus is pulled out of his observation as men and women stand to their feet all around the church. In an orderly fashion, they file into the corridors, walking up to the front, surrounding the casket. They're all wearing uniforms; Liz's police colleagues.

One of them, likely her second in command, unfolds a flag of the United States, covering the casket with it. They all join in a respectful salute, and the senior officer takes a step forward, touching the radio on his shoulder.

"Calling Sheriff Forbes," he says. To his side, Caroline draws a pained breath in, lowering her head and mashing her eyes shut. "This is the last call for Sheriff Forbes," the man repeats, touching the radio again. "No response. Radio 2-6 is out of service after 12 years and four months of police service. Gone, but never forgotten."

Klaus grinds his teeth against the sudden urge to carry Caroline away from there, remove her from the torture of having to sit through this and hold her until the world settles and quiets down around her. Elena leans in, whispering something in such a low voice not even Klaus can understand it. Caroline gives her a tight nod, lifting her face once more, her cheeks now wet with tears.

Then it's Damon's turn to go up to the podium. How someone like Elizabeth could forge a real friendship with a crook lowlife like Damon Salvatore is anyone's guess. Then again, most people must think the same about him and Caroline. He'll be the first to concede that she is far too good for him, much more than he probably deserves. But Damon Salvatore is barely worth the attention he gets from his brother, let alone from anyone else. Anyone Caroline hates with as much passion as she hates him is someone Klaus wants to see die a slow, painful death and rot in the deepest layers of hell. He never really understood the story there beyond the obvious - that Damon is a tosser and a half - but he doesn’t have to. He’ll hate him on principle alone.

Still, when he goes up to the podium, Damon speaks with a rare show of emotion beyond his usual poor snark. "Liz Forbes was my friend," he begins, his voice thrumming with feeling. Caroline stares at him with as soft an expression as she could ever have when addressing Damon, an obvious truce between them in respect of her mother's memory.

The eldest Salvatore speaks about how caring the Sheriff was, how big a heart she had and how she always found it in her to forgive his many flaws. She saw potential for goodness in him, he says, made him feel like a better person than he truly was, so much in fact that he even believed her sometimes. "Disappointing her always broke my heart, and yet she always gave me a second, a third or a fourth chance to turn things around. And for her, I wanted to do better."

The last thing Klaus ever expected was for Damon Salvatore's eulogy to strike a chord with him. He would laugh, if it wasn't so bloody depressing to realize he has more in common with that sodden rat than a brother with a savior complex.

When he steps down, he bows his head in deference towards Caroline, and she acknowledges with a tiny nod. As friendly as the two of them will ever be, it seems.

She makes to stand then, to give her own speech, but Elijah puts a hand on her arm to still her and does so first. Klaus frowns, and so does Caroline, blinking in confusion at him as his brother walks up to the podium. She turns to Klaus with a question, not aware that Elijah had planned on speaking, and Klaus merely shakes his head.

"Good afternoon," Elijah starts, addressing the church. "Most of you don't know me. My name is Elijah Mikaelson -" A minor ripple goes through the crowd, some murmurs of recognition, and Elijah smiles shortly to himself. Some people do recall their name, if anything because of the lavish sums donated to the town council and the formidable celebrations held at their mansion. "Although my history with Mystic Falls runs long and deep, my passage through your town was brief. I never truly had the pleasure of knowing Elizabeth Forbes, but I did come to consider her daughter my family," he says, his expression softening as his eyes land on Caroline. "In the last few days, however, I got to spend a considerable amount of time with the Sheriff, and however sadly brief these moments were, it was enough for me to understand why this church is as crowded as it is today. She was a remarkable woman, indeed. And one who left a mark in many lives, as well as in this town's history."

Elijah makes a pause, looking down for a moment, as if considering his next words. "In her dying moments... She asked me to pass along a message to her daughter. Regretfully, I interrupted her before she could say too much, by telling her that she could speak to Caroline herself. Her condition worsened quickly and she was never to get the chance." He turns to Caroline again, as though she's the only person in the whole room, an apology written on every line of his expression. Even a couple of seats to the side, Klaus feels Caroline tensing. "She wanted you to know that being your mother was the greatest honor of her life, and that she was immensely proud of you. And she should be. You're a beautiful, strong woman, a generous friend, a loving and caring mother, and a bright light in the sea of darkness that surrounded my family before your arrival. I'm sure my brother will agree." Caroline gives him a quick glance, her eyes brimming with tears, but filled with affection. "You mother said you are extraordinary," Elijah continues. "And she was right. Just as she touched the hearts and lives of so many, so did you. You are every bit your mother’s daughter, Caroline, in the best possible way. My niece will grow up to hear all about her grandmother, who was a hero to all of you," he turns back to church. "A hero to this town... And, in many ways, a hero to my family. Goodbye, Sheriff. You will be missed."

Elijah steps down, and Caroline stands on her feet, walking up to him. She takes his hands and squeezes them tightly in gratefulness before moving to the front of the church herself.

Klaus watches Elijah closely as he takes his seat again, but before he can offer any commentary, Caroline clears her throat and his attention is once more all on her.

Instead of moving to the podium, she simply stands before the altar. Her silence lasts for a beat longer, and when she speaks, she sounds perfectly steady.

"Thank you for coming," she says. "This is for my mom."

What happens next is like something out of a dream.

Caroline closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and starts to sing. Klaus can barely believe what he's hearing. Her voice carries through the church, reverberating loudly across the high-ceiling walls, vibrating through his entire body and seeping into his chest. The whole church goes quiet - the whole _world_. Hearts stop beating, breaths are held inside, while they all listen, transfixed, to Caroline's song. It's a sound as beautiful as anything he's ever heard, her voice silky and sweet, but strong at the same time, filled with deep-rooted emotion - love, yes, but also grief, sadness.

He has heard her singing to Eve before, quiet and gentle lullabies, enough to know she had a sweet, melodic voice, but not… _This_. Not this powerhouse of a voice that reaches inside of him, stirring something deep and unfathomable. No heartfelt or eloquent speech could ever pack as much raw, honest emotion and touch as profoundly as her song. Even Eve seems to stand to attention on his lap, watching her mother with wide eyes.

" _Go in peace... Go in kindness... Go in love... Go in faith. Leave the day, the day behind us... The day is done, go in grace. Let us go into the dark, not afraid, not alone... Let us hope, by some good pleasure, safely to arrive at home._ "

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The Grill is even more crowded than the church was during the service. It takes Elijah a moment to locate his brother amidst the throng. He finds him sitting by himself at the bar, nursing a drink, seemingly distracted, but one only has to follow his line of sight to find the sole focus of his attention. He watches Caroline like a hawk as she smiles, shakes hands and accepts the condolences of familiar faces and strangers alike with grace and dignity. Anyone who, like Niklaus, knows her, however, can see just how exhausted she is. How broken. And yet, like a rock, she hangs in there, allowing the good folk of Mystic Falls to express their sadness.

This is the part of modern traditions that simply make no sense to Elijah. The city has lost its sheriff, but Caroline has lost a mother. He can't help but feel there's something intrinsically wrong with her being the one to dedicate her time to others, making them feel good for a show of sympathy, while she's the one in need of support. American etiquette dictates, and Caroline is nothing if not resilient, but still... It's deeply bothersome. And by the look on Niklaus' face, he's of the same opinion.

The darkness in Niklaus' eyes and his tightly-pressed lips betray his attempt at impassiveness, instead surrounding him with an aura of danger that seems to keep people at bay. It explains why, in spite of the place being packed, no one dares to come near him, all the bar stools closest to him vacant.

Elijah slides into one, lifting a hand to order himself a drink.

"Lovely speech," Klaus croaks, his voice flat and dead and devoid of the kind of fire Elijah expected from him. He's been waiting for the none-too-gentle feedback from his brother since he stepped down from the podium. Klaus turns away from where Caroline is, facing the bar, sipping from his own glass. By the looks of it, not his first tonight. "You never told me you were going to speak there today."

"I didn't know it myself, until it felt right," he admits before taking a generous swig. "I'd been debating whether or not to tell her what her mother's final words had been about, wondering if perhaps I wouldn't make her feel worse."

"What changed?"

"I just remembered my own advice to you. Today wasn't about how I'd feel, but about what Caroline needed to hear. Elizabeth never got a chance to say these things herself. It was only fair that she knew. Those were her mother’s final words, after all. Her final thoughts were for Caroline."

He expected Niklaus to whine about it further, make some mean and petty remark, fueled by jealousy, as is always the case. Instead, in a rare show of maturity, his brother simply deflates as he lets out a long breath, his shoulders hunching over his drink. "Do you think we would've been better people if we'd had a mother like Elizabeth Forbes instead of Esther Mikaelson?"

"Are you asking if we were always rotten or a product of our mother’s making?” he says, sliding his brother a sideways look. “Who knows these things? All of our lives' tragedies can be traced back to Esther and the moment she decided to curse us for all eternity. But would we have been happier and more wholesome if we'd lived mortal lives? Or would we have turned out like Mikael, warped and vicious and shaped by our crude times? The only certainty is that we wouldn't have made it this far, wouldn't have known the people we know, wouldn't have seen what we saw, wouldn't have created an entire new species... What would the world be like if there were no vampires?" Elijah sips from his drink again and turns to face his brother. "Would you trade what you have today - all your issues and that inherent self-loathing that walks hand in hand with us, but also your daughter and Caroline, your hybrid qualities - for one happy and unsuspecting mortal life that would've ended a millennium ago?"

"I was never happy. Making us monsters is the only one of our mother's sins I could ever forgive her for. I like what we are, even if, at times, I have qualms myself with _who_. But one thing is for certain." Niklaus lifts his chin, not a shadow of doubt in his eyes. "I'd trade Caroline and Eve for nothing. Not all the riches and the promises of happiness or fulfillment in this world would ever be true without them."

Elijah's lips quirk up into a short smile, and he clinks their glasses together. "I thought you'd say that."

"Hi." They both turn to find Elena standing behind them. "Nice speech today, Elijah. That was very beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Caroline just left," she continues, shifting her tone as her eyes cut straight at Klaus. Both of them crane their necks to look above the sea of heads around them, searching for a familiar blonde mane that is nowhere to be found. "She said she's done the funeral thing enough for one day."

"Did she tell you where she was heading?" Elijah asks.

"Home. At least, she said she was going home."

"You seem distressed. What's the matter?"

"I offered to walk her home, but she turned me down. I _insisted_ , and she hugged me to shut me up, thanked me and then said she'd be fine. But she's not fine. She's a mess. The way she's been acting, some of the things she's said..." Elena blows out a heavy gust of her. "It's weird and I'm worried for her. She said she wants to be alone, but I don't think she should be. And as much I want to be there for her, I don't think my company is what she needs right now." She folds her arms across her chest, eyebrows bunching together into a sharp look as she fixes Niklaus with a glare. "Are you going to dump her?"

He frowns. "What?"

"It's a straightforward question. Are you or are you not thinking about ending things with her for good? Personally, I have no problems with that, but you can't do that tonight."

"What the bloody hell are you yapping about, doppelganger?"

"She told me you guys... Kissed," she says with a little twist of her lips. "And she also mentioned that you said something about going back to New Orleans, and she seemed very bothered by the fact she didn’t know what that meant, which tells me she was having an _episode_. You know - when she projects all her feelings into one thing and becomes obsessed just so she can avoid dealing with what's really eating at her. Except this is on a whole new scale. I hate you, Klaus, but I love Caroline, and I think, right now, you're the one person who can give her the kind of support she needs. But if you're going to dump her and go back to New Orleans, then I don't want you anywhere near her because I don't think she can take it."

Klaus immediately turns to Elijah with murder in his eyes. "Fantastic advice, brother," he grits out, knocking back the rest of his drink.

"Niklaus, I -"

"I'm leaving."

"Does that mean you're not dumping her?" Elena asks, gaze darting from him to Klaus in enquiry. His brother doesn't offer any replies, more dismal than before as he simply marches out of the Grill, breathing out barely-controlled angry puffs as he barrels through the crowd, shouldering people out of his way.

"What does that mean?" Elena turns to Elijah, lost and mildly exasperated. "Is he going to dump her or not?"

"Don't worry. He most definitely won't."

"Then what was that about?"

"I might have said something that... Caused a misunderstanding." Elijah finishes his drink and immediately lifts his hand to get a refill. He looks at Elena, still standing there, not entirely convinced of Klaus' intentions. "You're worried about Caroline, and you have every reason to be skeptical about my brother. But let me reassure you, Elena, if there's one person in this whole world Niklaus truthfully does care about, that is Caroline. He's made many mistakes, but he won't walk out on her now."

Elena exhales, looking every bit as exhausted as Elijah feels after the long day they had. She sinks down on the stool vacated by Klaus. "It's so weird to think about Klaus like this."

"Like what?"

"Like someone who cares. Who supports another being, who protects and comforts them, who can be trusted with mending someone’s broken heart. I mean, we always knew he had a _thing_ for Caroline, but what happened while she was away and how close they've gotten... I just have a hard time relating what I know of Klaus to this guy who had a baby with Caroline. It doesn't seem like they can be the same person."

Elijah's lips tug into a grin. "I find that odd."

Elena frowns at him. "Why?"

"Well, aren't you with Damon Salvatore?"

The girls' eyes widen, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she shifts awkwardly on her seat. "I don't... It's not... I don't think it's the same thing."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe Damon's list of misgivings rivals my own, and, in fact, that of Niklaus'. It's a matter of perspective. You see Damon in a certain way because you care for him, most of his worst deeds were likely committed in the name of protecting you or those you care about, although I can put my money on him having gone off the rails on the odd occasion.” Elena glances away, confirming his assumption. “Caroline’s dislike of him is not a mystery. She must feel the same way about your relationship, doesn’t she?" he asks conversationally, sipping calmly from his glass.

Elena's mouth opens and closes a few times before she can produce any replies. And when she does, it comes with a defeated sigh. "I guess," she concedes. "You’re right, I am being hypocritical. I just… Got used to thinking of Damon in a certain way, but not Klaus. He was always the enemy for me. I mean, he killed me.”

“I’m not making excuses in his name. My brother is unrivaled when he sets his mind on being despicable.”

“I'm just worried about Caroline and I don't trust Klaus. To leave my best friend in his hands after she just lost her mother gives me goosebumps." Elena turns to him, staring at Elijah with a quiet plea. "Are you sure he will look out for her?"

A line forms between his eyebrows. "You don't trust my brother, but you trust my word on him?"

"Well... Yes."

Elijah huffs out a chuckle when he remembers Liz teasing him at the police station. He raises his glass briefly in the air on a silent toast to her before drinking. "Can I offer you a drink, Elena? And then perhaps you can tell me all that I've missed on the ever-unfolding drama of Mystic Falls."

She blinks at him and then nods, slowly. "Yeah. Ok. Sounds good."

Elijah grins again and asks the barman for another glass. Elena seems to relax a little at least, smiling coyly at him. He should grant Niklaus and Caroline some privacy, which means he won't be able to go back to the house any time soon. He can think of worse distractions than Elena Gilbert while he waits around.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline uses the very last of her wits to squeeze out a polite _thank you_ to Natalie when the babysitter offers her sentiments before she takes off. Suddenly, away from all the noise and the mourners, all of her emotions are _right there_ , rising to the surface, not tucked neatly away where she'd kept them most of the day. Like a monster escaping its leash, something with teeth and claws tearing her apart from the inside out.

She feels as though she was made of smoke and shadows. Like she doesn't have anything holding her together anymore; her bones have turned to water, her skin has melted off her. Even walking is a struggle.

And all through that, the temptation to make it all stop sparks to life with vicious intensity once more. _Just flip the switch_ , a soft, gentle little voice whispers in her head. _Close your eyes and reach for it inside of you. A second, and it'll all be gone. No more pain. No more suffering. No more missing your mom. A second, and it's over. You're free._

The unsettling inside of her drops into panic as the voice gets louder. She rushes up the stairs and into the guest room, where Eve is asleep in her crib. Caroline lets out a gust of air that leaves her empty, blocking out all other sounds to focus her attention on the steady rhythm of her daughter's heartbeats, allowing it to smooth some of the rougher edges of her grief until the voice in her head is but a distant whisper.

Her mind reels as she tries to compose herself against the despair that rises up to choke her, digging through the whirlwind of emotions ravaging her to find precious beacons of reason to hold on to. She can't give in to the promise of a painless existence. Even with all the regret rattling away inside of her, even as she feels her whole world crumbling beneath her feet. She has Eve.

Her daughter needs her.

It's hard to bar off the rocky shores of hypotheticals, though, wonder if she would be strong enough to resist the allure of the humanity switch if Eve wasn’t here. Caroline would like to think that this, right here, is the worst she'll ever feel, but Damon's words have not stopped ringing inside her head. What happens when everyone else is gone, and it's just her and her baby and the fresh batch of insecurities her mother's loss has unleashed inside of her? What happens when the pain of missing Liz becomes unbearable? Will Caroline do right by her daughter, or will she succumb to agony?

Tears well up in her eyes once more and, afraid she won't be able to control the sobs, she lets Eve sleep in peace and goes back to the first floor.

It's the first time Caroline's back at the house since her mother passed away. Her stomach ties in violent knots as she paces around, touching random things. Liz's favorite chair; the coffee table that has been there for as long as Caroline can remember; the walls, painted in a light shade of yellow that her mother loved so much. It was her favorite color. _Sunflowers and summer days and my Care Bear's braids_ , she used to say.

The place is a little messy - books out of shelves, magazines left open on the table, a cardigan forgotten on the back of the couch. It's like staring at a museum. Imprints of a life that no longer exists. The last bits of this world her mother touched.

There isn't a single inch or grain of dust in that house that doesn't have a memory attached to it. It's where Caroline was born and where she grew up. All her worst and best memories of her mortal life reside in this house in one way or another. In so many ways, this is a memorial to someone else who’s gone. The Caroline Forbes who lived here, who loved and cried and learned and grew within these walls, is also dead, murdered at the altar of a church in New Orleans.

Those were simpler times. Easier even when they were painful, even when they cut into her chest, even when it hurt. And woven through all of that, is Liz. Her mother is the very essence of this house, and without her there, the place feels haunted, soulless. Dead, as all of its previous inhabitants.

She picks up the cardigan, folds it, and then buries her face in it, overwhelming her wolf-enhanced senses with her mother's perfume. It's impossible to think of a world where that smell will fade and live only in her memory. Caroline gets a familiar ache in her throat as she puts the cardigan down, feeling as though the hollow inside of her has started to expand, spreading out to swallow up the whole house.

She walks over to the coffee table, piling the magazines neatly together and then picking up the books to put them back on the shelves. There isn't much to do about the wreckage left by what’s no longer here or the devastation inside of her, but she can tidy up this mess and so that's what she'll do.

There's a prickle on the back of her neck, that strong sense of _eyes_ burning on her skin, and Caroline huffs out in annoyance. "I said I was fine Elena," she snaps, not turning around. She should've known her friend would not give up so easily.

"I don't believe you." She whips around at the sound of Klaus' deep and solemn voice. And then the irritation flares up anew.

"Did Elena put you up to this?"

Klaus' lips pull into a not-quite smile. "Do you honestly believe Elena Gilbert could ever put me up to anything?"

"I don't need a babysitter, Klaus. I'm _fine_. I was just tired. Today has been way too long, I needed it to be over already."

Klaus steps further into the room, hands clasped behind his back. "And is tidying up the house what you do when you're tired?"

"Stop smothering me!" Caroline explodes. She can't take this anymore. The sympathy and the softness and the feeling of _eyes_ just looking at her with pity. It’s all she’s had today and she can't handle another second of it, but she _especially_ can't take it from Klaus.

The unexpected heat of her reaction takes him aback, and so Caroline plows on, determined to be left to wallow in peace. "All day I've had to deal with the sympathy of people whose names I don't even know and I _hated_ every second of it. But because my mother raised me to be polite, I couldn't just tell them to fuck off and leave me alone, but I can tell _you_ that. And Elena. And Elijah. And everyone else. Just fucking let me -!" She flings her arms open, gesticulating wildly, and accidently hits the portraits on the mantelpiece beside her. One of them topples to the floor, the glass shattering as it falls.

Caroline stops mid-rant, her eyes catching the photo behind the broken glass. The memory of that day appears unbidden in her mind. Her first day of high school. It took them ten minutes to get that photo. Caroline thought it was so _lame_ that her mother was there like it was kindergarten or something, kept dipping her chin and hiding behind trees. She was _mortified_ that anyone would see her with her sheriff mom, threw a small fit about how she wasn't a child anymore and how Liz wasn't contributing to making her social life any easier, and high school was hard enough without people thinking they’d be getting in trouble just being near her because her mom was the freaking sheriff. Teenagers have no respect for law enforcement.

Liz listened patiently to her nonstop whining and then said, as cool as ever, _"Are you done? This isn't for you, Caroline, it's for me. Now smile."_

Anyone who sees the photo now would never guess the argument they had just a second before it was taken, how Caroline grumbled all the way to class. She seems perfectly happy, and her mom sports a radiant, proud smile, which - she now realizes - was totally genuine.

Something breaks inside of Caroline, everything she had been pushing down and suppressing all day long comes bursting out of the feeble cage she’d trapped it in. The bottom drops out of her stomach, and suddenly it's as though all her strength, the little of it she still had, evaporates all at once, leaving her in crippling and overwhelming pain.

She sucks in a broken breath, her chest rising like it's taking her physical effort just to stand still, and then she crumples to the floor, clasping a palm over her mouth. Caroline barely feels the impact of the fall, caught in a state of numbness. She reaches out for the portrait, shaky fingers dancing over her mother's sunshine face. Her chest constricts painfully, and then she breaks into tears.

"I spent such a long time living among immortals that I forgot my mom wasn't one. She always felt so... Solid. Bulletproof. I thought she was going to be around forever. I thought I had all the time in the world. Now… She's gone..." she hears herself choking out amid the sobs that rattle through her. "My mom is gone."

In a split-second, her mind is filled with millions of things she wants to say and never did. Millions of stories, of apologies never uttered, of things she hid out of fear or shame, and so, so many doubts. Did she ever tell her mom how proud she was of her? Of all that she accomplished, as a woman, a mother and an officer of the law. Liz was the first woman to ever become sheriff in Mystic Falls. In small towns like theirs, that never happens. But she was so good, so competent, so level-headed and respected, that it felt only natural when the time came. She was a role model and an inspiration and why did Caroline never tell her that? Why was she so stupid to be embarrassed that her friends would see her sheriff mother on her first day of high school, instead of glittering with pride?

She wants so desperately to say it now, looking at her life, that she saw all of it - the tiny things and the big things - that she saw _her_ , in all her completion.

She vaguely realizes that someone's next to her, sitting down beside her on the floor. An arm snakes around her waist, pulling her closer, and although it feels almost like it's happening to someone else, as though she's disconnected from her body, Caroline goes. She grips the portrait tightly in her hands as she buries her face into the curve of someone's neck, finding herself folded into strong arms.

"It's all right, sweetheart..." Klaus whispers, his voice raspy and gentle.

"It hurts so much..." she sobs. "I can't breathe."

"It's all right. You did splendidly today, Caroline. There's nothing wrong with falling apart for a bit."

"But there is," she counters weakly, her voice muffled as she speaks with her lips almost touching his skin. "All day I've felt my humanity switch screaming. It was almost as bad as when I completed transition, this _thing_ nagging at me to just let go. I had to come home and see Eve, remind myself why I can't cheat the pain away, why I have to push through it. I can't afford to crash and burn because I have a child I have to take care of and I've been terrible at it lately as it is."

"As someone who understands a thing or two about unhealthy coping mechanisms, I can say that you have been terrible at absolutely nothing."

Caroline pulls away from him, sniffing as tears continue to free-fall down her face. Klaus keeps his arm firmly around her. "You and Elijah and the babysitter have spent more time with her than I did the past few weeks."

"Because your mother was in and out of the hospital."

"But I wasn't with her either, was I? While she was there, I was always somewhere else. Avoiding her. Running away. Cleaning that stupid cabin. I was a terrible daughter and a terrible mother all in one. I screwed up like I always did, and I never got to tell her I’m sorry."

Klaus simply looks at her for a long moment, something vast and kind in his eyes. "I wish I had an inspirational speech like Elijah's to give you. Can't say I even have any appropriate grieving advice to share. But I do understand hurt. What you're feeling right now, this... Loss. Maddening, crippling, that makes you both want to set the world on fire and remove yourself entirely from it... That, I know intimately. It steals away all your clarity. Tricks your mind into thinking pain and guilt is all there is. It’s overwhelming. The things you've been through, Caroline, they would've easily destroyed many far older and more experienced than you. You did the best anyone could, gave your mother a beautiful service, arranged for the entire community to be there. It was a grand and fitting send of."

"Yeah. So? She's still gone. I don't get anything out of that. It brings me no peace, no closure -" Her voice breaks off, and she has to stop, suck a painful breath in. "I never appreciated her as I should. I never gave back for everything she did for me. She was meant to be here to see me graduate from college one day, to see Eve off on her first day of school, to teach me how to be a good mom. I don't know what I'm doing half the time. I make so many mistakes, and I’m a _vampire_ , while she was… Good. She was just _good_. It's so unfair... It's like I lost a part of myself. The core of everything good that I ever was. I don't know what to do. Where to go from here. I'm just... Drifting."

Klaus lifts a hand to her face, wiping away a tear and then holding her chin up, catching her eyes. "Your mother will always be with you," he says, the intensity in his gaze scorching in its sincerity. "I know it’s hard right now for you to see past the pain, but I promise it goes away. And when it does, you’ll realize that the things she taught you, the moments you've shared, it'll live on, forever, through you. And it'll pass on to our daughter, and to her children, and her children's children, and you'll see it as clear as daylight, those bits and pieces of Liz Forbes, resonating into eternity. That is the immortality of mortals. Their essence, when good, takes root. It never dies. Her light will never go out. I know it doesn't feel like it, but it shines even now, in you."

Caroline gets a pang of warmth in her chest, a tiny candle flickering in the darkness. She feels none of that light, none of that strength or that goodness, nothing but an amalgam of pain and guilt and regret woven together under her skin. What is she, without her humanity? Without the thing that made her good? Her link to her old self, to the life she left behind? But maybe Klaus is right. Maybe he can be. Maybe she can allow herself to believe him.

Her face scrunches up as a new hot wave of tears wrecks through her, and Caroline launches herself against Klaus, wrapping her arms around him, hands closing around his jacket in a tight grip like she’s afraid he, too, might disappear.

The fear of loneliness and abandonment persists, that ominous sensation that she will be all on her own, just her and Eve, as her mother was when she was a child. That trepidation, verging on panic, that she will screw up in ways she can’t even fathom. That she won't be as good a mother as Liz was, won’t ever be able to make her proud. The strength everyone speaks of - Caroline feels none of it. But in that moment, she tries to push it down as she finds a tiny measure of comfort in the knowledge that, at least for the time being, she's not alone. She _can_ fall apart, just for now. 

He won’t let go.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline's eyes flutter open, and for one long, disorienting second, she doesn't know where she is. She doesn't remember falling asleep, although _sleep_ is probably a loose term. Nothing about her feels rested; she's tense, painfully so, hands gripping the pillow under her head as though she'd been bracing herself for wakefulness, fighting against it, desperate not to be dragged back to reality.

Recollection of the last day comes to her like a fast-moving train, and when the blow lands, it's not sharp, not piercing, but heavy and throbbing. Caroline feels unmoored as reality punches through her, opening up a hole in her chest, grief rearing its head and crashing upon her again. She clenches her eyes shut against the sting behind her eyelids, burying her face in the pillow, hiding from the sunlight that seeps in through the window.

It's a new day. Yesterday, it still felt like Liz was here. Everything was about her, for her, because of her. All those people coming together to pay their respects, share all those memories, toast in her honor. Today, life has moved on. Today, Liz Forbes is just... Gone.

Damon was right; the worst was yet to come.

It's a long time before she gathers enough courage to face the day again, roll onto her back and stare at the ceiling. Longer still before she can sit up. She's in her bedroom, still in her dress and tights from the funeral. Klaus must've carried her up after she passed out from so much crying. Caroline was so out of it she didn't even wake up, her systems just shutting down completely to avoid permanent damage.

She drags herself out of bed, a backbreaking effort just to get her legs moving accordingly, padding slowly towards the window. Her stomach turns at the beautiful day outside: blue skies, bright sun, birds chirping. She couldn’t feel more disconnected from it. A neighbor walks out to pick up the newspaper, wishes a good morning to another one who walks to their car, briefcase in hand, ready to head into work. It's just a normal day. A nice one at that. Elizabeth Forbes is no longer on this earth and yet it has not stopped moving.

 _How_? How is she the only one stuck? How is it that no one else felt the buck? How is it that no one else has stopped breathing?

Anger flashes through her, bright and hot, spurred by the sudden and irrational desire to scream and throttle and tear everything apart. She wants to head outside and start banging on doors, yelling at people, biting their heads off until they know, until they _understand_. The urge sweeps across her being like a fever, and for a second, it's all she can think of, all she can feel, the boiling rush of _hunger_ , the veins around her eyes popping, the itch of her descending fangs -

 _No_.

Caroline stops herself. Jaw clenched tightly, hands balled into white-knuckled fists, nails digging into her palms, drawing blood. She takes a deep breath, then another, and another, until her pulse has slowed down and the roaring inside of her has dimmed into a low rumble. She shoves it all back into that space where her monster nests, staying very still until she can breathe again.

As she turns around, taking in her childhood room - the cheer trophies and medals on the shelves, the smiling faces of Bonnie and Elena and Matt and Liz pinned to the corkboard, the memories of many simple, domestic nights spent wearing too-large t-shirts and eating ice cream, curled up in bed to watch movies with her mom - it strikes Caroline that the house is way too still. Ominously so. Klaus and Elijah don't sleep that much, and Eve is an early bird, should've been up for her morning bottle already.

A shot of dread goes through Caroline. It's a silly kind of fear, childish even, but she cannot shake it, cannot stop hearing Damon's voice booming inside her skull. Even if they're not home, they can't have gone far. Probably just out on a walk or a quick blood haul. They wouldn't just pack up their things and leave without saying goodbye, and they definitely wouldn't take Eve with them. At least, Caroline doesn't think they would. But even as the voice of reason tells her this is just a stupid fear drilled into her by Damon freaking Salvatore of all people, she can't help it. It's just stronger.

She's terrified to find out that she's alone.

Antsy beyond reason, Caroline steps out of the room. Her heart races as she continues down the hall, past her mother's bedroom, eyes firmly ahead, all the way to the guest bedroom. Holding her breath, she pushes the door gingerly open, everything held in suspense during that torturing long second.

The scene she stumbles upon makes her heart lurch. Klaus and Elijah are out cold on the double bed - Elijah lying on his side, Klaus on his back, both of them still wearing last night's clothes, minus the ties and the jackets. It makes her think they likely didn't get any rest overnight. Sandwiched between them is Eve, equally asleep, her position mirroring her father's exactly - one hand on their stomachs, the other close to their heads, slightly tilted to the right.

Something inside of Caroline unshutters at the sight, allowing light to seep in, pushing that paralyzing fear down and away. Just for a little bit, just enough for her to take a full breath in and feel the air actually reach her lungs, clear her thoughts. Her heart twists with something that isn't pain; fresh tears well up in her eyes, but of a different brand altogether. Not happy, not exactly, but just... Relieved. Grateful. Blessed. For this moment, anyway, she feels blessed.

Maybe Damon didn't have this when his mother died. Stefan was too young, his father was a dirtbag, and when he woke up the next morning, choked up with a scream trapped in his throat, all he found was an empty house. All he had was silence. Caroline has three hearts beating in tandem and six hands to hold on to and a deep-rooted affection that blooms in the scorched-earth space of her chest.

The feeling seems sharp and brittle even now, like the tiniest disturbance might tear it to shreds. But it gives her _something_ \- like a promise or hope - and for just a split-second, Caroline can see the flicker of a flame beneath the sea of shadows that has dragged her under.

She presses a palm to her own chest, trying to grab that feeling and hold it in place, keep it from slipping away.

Right now, it feels like nothing in her life will ever be easy or normal again, but in this one tiny, bright moment, Caroline has found her perfect stillness in the middle of the storm.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two songs to go with this chapter. The first is **It's Alright by Fractures** , for the scene when Klaus comforts Caroline at the end. The second is **Timshel by Kina Grannis** , for the final scene, when Caroline wakes up and then finds Klaus, Elijah and Eve.
> 
> I know this chapter was heavy with emotions! But I genuinely feel like this might be one of my best. There's a lot I could talk about this chapter, but I'm not gonna do this here. If you have any questions or comments or if you'd just like to chat, you can find me on tumblr @ **galvanizedfriend**. My inbox is always opens! ✨
> 
> I hope you guys have enjoyed it! :) As always, I would love to know your thoughts! So, please, if you're still with me, drop me a note and make this writer's day a lil brighter! 💖
> 
> I was considering a quicker update this time around, but I realize you folks might need a breather after this. So let me know if you'd be interested in seeing 28 out quicker. :) Thank you so much for reading!


	28. S02E28 Because

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quicker update! 🙌 I hope I'm not overwhelming y'all! 😅 Next updates will be on time cause I have a schedule now, which I will talk more about on the end notes, if you're interested.
> 
> For the first time in a while, _I have no trigger warnings to make!_ 🥳 And it feels good! :D But this chapter _kicked my behind_ for MONTHS! I was stuck on it for such a long time, having so many crisis, thinking I was never going to finish it. It was by far the hardest one to write for me. It's **100% original** , nothing here was taken from the show, and I think that's probably the only chapter in the whole story where no scenes were borrowed. So I am both incredibly excited to share and also terrified that I messed up! lol Have to thank **recylingss** so, so much for holding my hand throughout the writing process, having so much patience and answering soooo many freaked out questions, and also **coveredinthecolors** for her amazing suggestions! 💖
> 
> I really, really hope you guys enjoy this one! And if you do, as always, your comments and feedback mean the world to me! 💖 Have fun, folks!

* * *

It had been years, far too many to even count, since the last time Klaus had to leave the comfort of his home to replenish his own stash of blood. He feels like a proper peasant. There is a reason evil villains employ minions to carry out their daily pesky chores. It's so very unbecoming.

Creatures of a certain stature within the supernatural food chain are just above having to fight for their meals. Klaus is used to snapping his fingers and having blood fresh from the vein served to him in crystal glasses. If he's feeling adventurous, in need of blowing off some steam, he has an all-you-can-eat buffet in its infinite variety just waiting to be ravaged right outside his door at the ever lively Royal Street. It makes him feel like a caveman, out hunting for food - minus the thrill of actually killing something to make it worth his while.

These are the moments when he misses his hybrid sires the most. They were a pain and a half, for certain, but they were diligent in keeping up with everyday tasks Klaus simply couldn't be bothered with. At least in New Orleans he could compel the house staff to slash their wrists and fill his tumbler - for which they are handsomely rewarded; his demands are high but he’s nothing but generous.

In Mystic Falls, however, a city the size of a walnut, Klaus is forced to keep a low profile. Not for his own sake, of course. He promised Caroline that he would _behave_ , which unfortunately encompasses not bringing live snacks into the house. She has a thing or another against him treating the locals like dinner, which - well... There's a whole argument to be had about what in the bloody hell are they if not a meal, but he has vowed to spare her the hassle. Such a bore... And an inconvenient one at that.

He tried to persuade Caroline to join him on a quick snack-run, singing praise to the joys of warm blood. Even went as far as offering his own neck for her to maybe get a renewed taste for it. She knows his blood is not stale like that of other vampires' - werewolf privileges and whatnot. No such luck; she remained unmoved. With their stocks rapidly waning, Klaus had to personally pay a visit to the nearest hospital's blood bank in order to sort it out. Three vampires in a house, and Caroline in the mood she's in, they were running dangerously low.

Grabbing the blood bags took him less than five minutes. "Fill this box for me to the brim, will you, sweetheart? And make sure you have only B+, AB and O-, none of that A nonsense," he instructed, capturing the woman's glazed over eyes in his. Her extreme efficiency made him wonder if that was her first time being compelled to do it.

And since he was already there, anyway, he thought he might make the most of the opportunity and take a small bite of the nurse's neck in order to satiate his craving for something livelier. The nurse is perfectly fine, all healed, commanded to forget all about it and sent on her merry way. He was even careful enough not to make a mess of the willful lady's pristine scrubs, ignoring his desire for a bit of indulgence in favor of polite restraint. He should get a gold star for good behavior.

Instead, he gets a cold shoulder.

"Stock is replenished," Klaus announces as he places the cool box on the kitchen island. "Enough for a week, if we’re not too greedy. I might still go out for a bite anyway; can't stand this cold diet for long. Don't tell Caroline, she gives me the eye for nibbling on her dear townsfolk. What doesn't reach her sensitive ears can't rile her up."

Elijah merely hums in acknowledgement, not even dignifying Klaus’ presence with a glance. He is far too busy doing the dishes.

This astoundingly domestic spectacle has become a recurrency: Elijah wearing an apron, chopping vegetables into tiny perfect cubes, tasting homemade tomato sauce or cleaning up the mess after lunch. Real lunch, not the type Klaus favors.

"You know you don't have to do that," Klaus says. "Cook real food every day."

"Nonsense," is his brother’s flat reply. "I enjoy cooking."

The standoffish reply is not untruthful. Elijah did have an intense love affair with culinary arts once upon a time, though it's been decades since Klaus last saw his brother spend so much time in the kitchen. He lost passion for it around the time they adopted Marcel into the family. Ever since they were reunited, he was yet to cook a single family meal. Something which he's rectified plentifully in the last few weeks, reviving his lost appetite for chopping and grilling and whatever else it is that he does.

The effort is all for Caroline, no doubt, and Klaus can appreciate his brother's dedication to making her feel a little more comfortable in these trying times. He's long past being jealous of their proximity - mostly, anyway. He still gets rather salty over it on occasion; it’s stronger than him. Klaus is way too territorial to ever be truly at ease with someone else being this intimately close to her. Especially someone who tried to kiss her not that long ago. But he's sufficiently convinced Caroline won't pull a Gilbert move on them. She loves Elijah, to be certain, but not in the way that would make Klaus want to cut his own brother to ribbons, for which he is most grateful. The two of them have enough issues as it is.

He does, however, suspect that the cooking spree is not just about Caroline. When Klaus wants to tear the world apart, he paints. It's how he exerts control over things that escape his leash in real life, not always to great success. Elijah often takes refuge in music, but in the absence of a grand piano, he cooks. Maybe, while he stabs the meat and knives through carrots, he's really imagining it's someone's chest he's slicing open, someone’s sharp tongue he's chopping away. Klaus can make an educated guess on whose.

Starting conversations with Elijah was never difficult before, even in the throes of anger. Passive-aggressiveness and borderline abuse is something Mikaelsons nibble on with coffee for breakfast, after all. And yet getting a full sentence out of his eloquent, prolix, often way too opinionated brother has become more than an exercise in patience; it's a bloody crusade. Elijah's cold detachment is palpable and unwavering, no matter what Klaus does.

While they were in New Orleans and seldom saw each other, it didn't feel like much of a problem. Then Klaus was gone for months and hardly thought of Elijah. Here, however, living under the same roof, the still deeply bruised space between them grew to humongous proportions in the quiet days following Liz Forbes’ funeral. Klaus thought things were getting better, that Elijah was finally starting to move on from this foolishness, but he sees now that he was mistaken. His brother was merely putting up a diplomatic front for Caroline's sake. Now that there is nothing to do but move ahead with their lives, his indifference has slid back into place, that unbridged gap between them suddenly made manifest once more.

Between Elijah's cold shoulder and Caroline's mourning, Eve has become Klaus' closest companion. While as enamored as ever with his daughter, having only a toddler to speak to can be rather unsettling for a thousand-years-old creature. Klaus has no idea how to communicate with her, feeling mightily misadjusted most of the time. Much like her mother, Eve is a vibrant talker, loves to engage in excited conversations, which would be absolutely splendid, if only he had any clue of what she's saying. Should he be able to understand her? What does it mean that he can't? Caroline, inexplicably, seems perfectly capable of translating Eve’s gibberish, but her super parental powers do not seem to extend to him. He wonders if there’s something wrong with him or if mothers can naturally read children's minds. Probably the former, he assumes.

Looking a small child in the eye and saying, "You have to speak clearly if you want me to understand you, sweetheart," when she launches into her enthusiastic babbling is... Well, not his finest moment. Least of all because Eve always laughs at him, like she thinks he's making a complete fool of himself. Which, well... Not untrue.

Between not understanding Eve, not knowing how best to approach Caroline in her grief and not being able to hold any semblance of conviviality with Elijah, he does feel like a halfwit. Not something Klaus experiences every day - and not a pleasant feeling, he has to say.

Klaus decides on a friendly approach to his brother this time. Perhaps a helping hand and trampling over the fact he is being resoundingly dismissed might soften Elijah's hardened disposition, if anything then by wearing him out. Now, there is something Klaus excels at: imposing inconvenience.

He takes off his jacket and bunches back the sleeves of his shirt, walking around the island to stand close to his brother. While Elijah rinses the dishes, Klaus grabs a towel and gets to drying them. It causes Elijah to halt, giving him a somewhat bewildered look.

"What are you doing?" Elijah asks.

"Building a rocket," Klaus replies flatly, casting a sideways glance at his brother. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You don't do dishes," he says matter-of-factly.

It's true. Klaus doesn't. Can't even recall the last time he's touched dishes, if ever, unless he was using them.

"Nonsense," he says, and then changes the subject, trying to spark a mild conversation. "I remember some memorable feasts you prepared for us at the compound. Your salmon au beurre blanc is still unrivaled, if you ask me."

With a heavy sigh, as though Klaus is being difficult, Elijah simply redirects his attention back to the sink.

"As impressive as your talents for the culinary arts are, however, we could consider stirring things up a bit, brother. Go out. Tonight, for instance. We could have a drink -"

"Niklaus," Elijah cuts him off, interrupting his activity to serve Klaus with a sharp look. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but in case it hasn't become abundantly clear to you yet, we're not friends."

Klaus’ lips twist into a pout. "I can see that. But that has never stopped us from being brothers before."

"No. What's stopped us from being brothers is your infinite selfishness."

“Selfishness?” Klaus counters with a flare of indignation, throwing the towel down. “I take care of my daughter. I restrict my feeding habits to that of a peasant’s to keep from rattling Caroline. I’m trying to help you with the bloody dishes. How am I being selfish?”

Elijah's eyes narrow just a tad. "You are so over your head you really don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what? You were speaking to me just fine before the funeral, and now you're not anymore. Your reason does elude me, brother."

"I don't expect you to make sense of common decency, but I do expect you to, at the very least, and perhaps for once in your life, respect the fact I have no desire whatsoever to entertain you. I was being polite before, now I don’t have to anymore.”

“I’m not asking to be entertained, Elijah, I’m just trying to establish some kind of conviviality. You can’t share a house with me and expect to treat me with nothing but contempt and your vile silences.”

“You know what, Niklaus? You are absolutely right. Which is why I am going back to New Orleans."

Klaus blinks slowly at him. "What?"

"Are you also deaf now?"

" _When_?"

"A couple of days, maybe more. When the worst of it has settled."

"Why?" Klaus' voice comes out harsh, demanding.

"I live there," Elijah replies with ease.

The beginnings of something that feels a lot like panic seems to thread through Klaus' insides, irrationally festering at the pit of his stomach. "You can't leave."

"Do you have a good reason or is that one of those instances where you try to control my life to suit your whims?"

"Do you think Caroline is _fine_?" he asks in a biting tone, but careful to lower his voice so she won't hear their argument. "That your job here is done? It's been ten days since she buried her mother, Elijah."

"No, I do not think she's fine. Neither do I think of offering her support as a _job_. Just as I don't believe a week or two are going to make much of a difference in her general state of mind. It'll take much longer than that for Caroline to heal. However crippled you might be when it comes to empathy, Niklaus, I also think you are perfectly capable of offering her all the assistance she needs from here on. She’s the part of your family you actually care for."

"Suddenly she's not family to you anymore, then."

Elijah tilts his head to the side with a sort of disbelieving look about him, not unlike the faces Klaus makes while Eve starts conversing with him in what is perhaps the only language in the whole of human history he hasn't mastered. Klaus feels awfully inadequate, and also like he is, indeed, being difficult. Which is a far cry from saying he is wrong. He is most definitely _not_.

"I won't dignify your twisted logic with an answer, Niklaus," Elijah says, drawing a line under the argument and turning his shoulder on him once more.

"How much longer is it going to take for you to forgive me?" Klaus blurts out, the words rolling off his tongue as though of their own will. While Klaus still doesn't feel nearly as repentant as Elijah would want him to, he so detests to be at odds with his brother this way. Especially now. The idea of not having Elijah here is suddenly very daunting for reasons he can't even begin to understand. "You can't hate me forever."

Elijah shoots him a mock-thoughtful look. "Let's give it 50 years and see how I feel then."

"I'm sorry, Elijah.” Klaus hates the exasperated edge on his voice, but knows it is inevitable. And, more importantly, sincere. "Is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry."

Slowly, Elijah shifts to face him. The darkness in his eyes is unmistakable as he peers at Klaus like he's something that needs to be examined. After a brittle silence, he declares, "No, you're not. And no, that's not what I want to hear."

"You want me to admit that I did it all out of spite? Fine. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to feel a little bite of what I felt. I was torn apart, Elijah, and I wanted the whole world to burn, and you and everyone else were victims of the vitriol that consumed me," Klaus confesses. He swallows, meeting the steel in his brother's gaze head on, awarding him with an unmasked honesty like he hasn't in a long time. Not that Elijah ever needed permission to see right through Klaus' façade, straight into the depths of his corruption; but it is different when permission is granted, and Elijah, more than anyone else, knows that. "But I also wanted to get her back. More than anything, I wanted her back. And you are not without your faults, having doubted me every step of the way. I’m sorry you had to let Gia go. I’m sorry she left, but at the end of the day, Dahlia is dead, my daughter is safe and Caroline is alive. I can't be any sorrier than I am."

This admission of guilt, however candid, is likely not very compelling. Not the sweet remorse that would maybe kowtow to Elijah's infinitely forgiving heart. But it is all true. Klaus would never forgive himself, or anyone else, if he'd wasted the chance to bring Caroline back from the dead due to an unconvincing detail, a telling color rising through the surface of his charade. Was he unnecessarily cruel? Perhaps. He won't deny that he can be a tad myopic when it comes to boundary lines of ethics and morals. But who can blame him, when the lives of the most precious things in the world to him were hanging in the balance? When his brother had _put him down_ after he lost the love of his life and his daughter could be next?

Moreover, which of them wouldn't have reacted the exact same way and made the exact same choices?

"What do you want from me, Niklaus?" Real heat finally breaks through Elijah’s stoicism, even if that heat is on the account of extreme irritation and resentment. "I have waved a white flag and called a truce for Caroline's sake. She needed us both, and that was more important than any fog between the two of us, but that has never meant I was willing to let bygones be bygones. I've had enough of that, of letting you walk freely after acting with your usual disregard. Well, live by the sword, die by the sword, brother. If you want to do whatever you please, no matter who you may hurt, then you need to deal with the consequences. I was here for her, but she can go on without me. I will not stay for you."

"What if I ruin everything again?" Klaus splutters, the bottom line of his anxiety finally rearing its head. "You remember what I was like when Eve was taken away and Caroline was in mourning. I was a disaster. I don't know how to do this, Elijah. What if I make everything worse? What if I can't say the right thing, be the right shoulder she needs right now? It might have slipped your mind that the people in this town hate me."

"It is a mystery why."

"I'm not going to offer heartfelt apologies to them the way I just did you."

His brother stops, the corners of his eyes furrowing as comprehension dawns on him. "Niklaus... Are you scared of being left alone with Caroline's friends?"

Klaus' eyes flicker away. He shrugs lightly. "Well, I can't bloody well smack their heads through a wall if they get on my nerves anymore, now, can I?"

"Well. I, for one, sincerely hope they give you reason to, so that you might understand what it's like dealing with you on a daily basis. Good luck," Elijah says dismissively, going back to the dishes once more.

It takes everything in Klaus not to snatch the plate from his hands and throw it across the room. It would probably not get him many points, and already he's not scoring high with his brother, but it would definitely send a message.

Instead, Klaus tries to rein in his temper. "Elijah," he starts again in a near plea. His brother’s hands still, but he does not turn. Klaus takes that as a cue to speak, inhales slowly, considering his next words with care. "I've confessed this to you once, while you were trapped in restless sleep after our mother tortured you. You may not remember, but… I’m scared of what I feel for Caroline and Eve. I'm scared I won't know how to handle it. That I won't be good enough for them. That I will destroy everything, as I always do. Caroline is fragile right now, she’s hurting, and I’m scared she’ll need from me something I do not know how to give."

He tries to keep the bite of fear out of his voice, but it tinges his speech anyway. As he talks, it seems to gain life, flaring up in his chest, a monster coming out of its shell. It's suddenly all clear to him, the source of his dread, of his jitter over not having Elijah near him, even while his brother barely pays him any mind. With him here, Klaus can always count on his diplomatic vein to act as a peacemonger if he slips up, fixing whatever he breaks along the way. Being alone to placate his own inadequacies when Caroline needs him the most frightens him.

"I never knew agony like this before. The mere thought of seeing them hurt kills me. But I know now that there are things out there that I cannot protect them from. And it terrifies me to my bones, Elijah. It drives me _insane_. Because I can't kill it, I can't threaten it, I can't bite it out of existence. I can't control it. How am I supposed to fight a disease that comes and takes Caroline's mother away and leaves her completely broken? How am I supposed to fix that?"

He scrubs a hand over his face, a worn-out sigh escaping his lips. He drops all the pretense, decides to show Elijah the true and ugly face of his uncertainty. Something in his despair must become obvious, because Elijah turns around once more, still impassive and unmoved, but apparently willing to listen.

"I need my brother," Klaus confesses. It's an awkward sensation, that of actually feeling like the younger brother in need of a familiar, steadier force by his side. Not a weakness he's always willing to acknowledge. "You are, as you have always been, my balance. My check. I can't do this without you. I can't be the man my daughter deserves unless I have you by my side. History proves that the moments when I chose to stray from you were the moments when everything went to hell. So it might be selfish, but... I am truly sorry, brother."

Elijah scrutinizes him with close attention for a long time; Klaus holds his breath in suspension all the while. His brother's piercing eyes knife through him, but he refuses to back away - hoping for forgiveness, but ready for rejection, whatever it might be. Then something changes in Elijah, all that ironclad resolve giving way to an emotion Klaus can't properly identify, but that is definitely milder, his steely disposition shifting into a somewhat more open demeanor. It's slight, but it's there.

"I will take it under consideration," Elijah speaks after what feels like eons. Klaus almost lets out a breath of relief, but then he adds, "But I am still leaving."

"Elijah -"

"Niklaus," he raises his tone above the protest he no doubt sensed coming. Klaus thinks he will get scolded, but when Elijah speaks again, his voice is oddly reassuring. "This is your family. As much as I love them, my presence here is not the same as yours. You need privacy to have the kind of domestic life Caroline needs right now, to reestablish some sense of normalcy. And, quite frankly, this house is not big enough for the two of us under the current circumstances. Hostility and awkwardness are not helpful at the best of occasions; right now, it could be damaging. If you can muster conviction to put a dagger through Gia's heart and curse Jackson Kenner and the rest of the Crescents to a life as beasts for Caroline, then you can surely muster the necessary mindfulness to curb your fears and insecurities for her in such a time." The blow hits, and Klaus' lips twist at the sting in his brother's words. The fact he is right only makes it worse. "Stop second-guessing yourself," he continues, catching his eyes again. "Not everything is a matter of contrivance and calculation. Sometimes all you have to do is just be there and love her. You do the latter like no one else. Now master the former."

Klaus feels a strong pang of warmth for his brother as he turns away once more, returning to his chores. Even amid his hard feelings, Elijah finds it in him to say just what Klaus needs to hear. It doesn't abate his trepidation, but it offers him much needed perspective. It's a start, he thinks, as some of the tension seeps out of his shoulders. Regardless of how grim his feelings for Klaus might be right now, Elijah wouldn't leave unless he truly believed Caroline would be alright. Which means he must honestly trust Klaus' abilities to do right by her.

He may not have his brother's love at the moment, but he does have his faith. Coming from Elijah, it's not little.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah knocks softly on the open door of Caroline's room. She looks up from where she's sitting cross-legged on the floor, next to her bed, hunched over an old family album, offering him a little smile that doesn't meet her eyes. These days, they never do.

“Do I intrude?”

"No. I'm just looking through some old photos." She scoots over to the side, patting the spot on the floor beside her. Elijah slides down next to her, legs stretched out in front of him. Caroline puts the heavy bundle between the two of them, balancing it on both their legs. She taps her finger over a photo of a little girl with long blonde curls in pigtails and a sunshine smile so big her eyes almost disappear. "This is me when I was three," Caroline says. "My mom was always gushing about how Eve looks exactly like me and I never saw it. I look at her and all I see is Klaus. But seeing these now..."

Elijah grins. "Undeniably a carbon copy. And thank the fates for it."

Caroline chuckles weakly, her eyes falling on the next photo, pain shining through the wistfulness in them. It's a picture of her as a toddler, waving at the camera in her mother's arms. Liz Forbes looks remarkably young, probably not much older than Caroline is now. She was different, wearing a lovely red dress, her blonde hair long and cascading in waves down her shoulder, but the radiant smile, so much like her daughter’s, was exactly the same even on the day she passed away.

"My mother was so beautiful," Caroline muses, maybe not even realizing she's speaking out loud.

"She was," Elijah concurs.

"I always told her she needed to find a boyfriend. I know she had a few after my dad left, but she never officially introduced them to me. I just sort of figured it out. Sometimes I'd run into her having a drink with someone at the Grill. She'd pretend they were friends, make up an excuse to get up and leave... I think her marriage was so terrible it traumatized her for life. She ran from commitments like a vampire from vervain. Maybe if my dad hadn't left, she would've never had it in her to get a divorce. In a town like Mystic Falls, people think that being unhappily married and frustrated in every aspect of your personal life is just another Wednesday. Everyone is destined to grow disillusioned with their spouses, that's the only way to go."

"That's an awfully sad perspective."

"People around here bat more of an eyelid at divorces than they do at suspicious puncture wounds on a neck. My mom found herself in her career and got so invested in it she barely had time for anything else. She was well respected, but men are always intimidated by strong women in positions of power," she says with a pointed look at him. Elijah's lips curl upwards into a lopsided grin. "She was the boss. No one ever dared coming near her like that after she was appointed sheriff."

"I didn't know your mother that well, but I genuinely think she had no resentments in that regard. She did what made her happy, brought her fulfillment."

"I know. She loved her job so much. She found the thing she was born to do and never looked back. I just… Wish she'd had someone who would tell her how amazing she was every day and feel lucky just to wake up with her every morning."

"She had you."

"It's not the same thing," Caroline says somewhat dispassionately.

Elijah knows what she means. Familial love, forged by blood ties, is strong and often undissolvable, but not the same as the blooming fulfillment that comes with having someone falling in love with you. The growing of feeling where it never existed before, the pleasure of the discovery of something completely new sweeping you off your feet, turning your world upside down in all the best ways... She's right; it's not the same. There's a sense of validation that comes with that otherness. Of being understood and appreciated in all your aspects, the good and the bad, by someone who holds no ties to you. A different sort of happiness. The kind she feels with Niklaus, and that only he can offer.

It makes him think yet again that leaving is the right decision. Caroline could use having those feelings climbing to the forefront of her life right now. It's not a replacement for what she lost, but rather a reminder of what she still has. A love that is not as soft and nurturing as a mother's, but just as absolute.

"What?" Caroline asks, blinking at him, cutting through his quiet musings. Elijah didn't realize he'd been staring at her. "You looked like you wanted to say something."

"Perhaps this isn't the most appropriate -"

"Elijah," she interrupts him gently, her eyebrows drawing into an arc that coaxes an answer out of him.

"I'm considering going back to New Orleans," he says all at once, before he can think it over and decide to wait another day or two. After a beat, he adds, "If you have no objections, of course."

Caroline's eyes widen with surprise, not of the pleasant type, before she can disguise it.

"Yeah," she says, too fast and too enthusiastic for it to be sincere. "Yeah, of course. You've been here a long time."

"You don't have to lie."

"I'm not lying." Elijah's lips twist, unconvinced, and Caroline rolls her eyes as though frustrated with herself. "Don't mind me. I'm just being silly and weird. You have every right to leave, Elijah. You dropped your whole life back there for a month now, to stay with me and my mom. I can't thank you enough for it, and I can't ask you to stay any longer than you already have."

"Yes, you can. If you want me to stay, I will." He says with ease. "However... I'm afraid my presence here is curbing some of your liberties with Niklaus."

"What?! No! That's not -"

"Living here, although nice, is not the same as sharing the compound."

"I know. It's just..." She trails off. Caroline seems suddenly so aggrieved he's already regretting having brought it up. Perhaps Niklaus was right, after all. Insensitive though he may be for most things where human decency is concerned, it does not apply to Caroline. He knows her too well.

"Can you tell me what's troubling you?"

She slumps back against the bed behind her with a disgruntled sigh. "I don't know. I keep thinking everybody wants to leave and move on while I'm the only one who can't." She casts him a sideways look, mouth drawn into a sad curve. "I know it doesn't make any sense. People _should_ move on and I hate that I’m holding you and Klaus hostage out of some sense of responsibility."

"It's not nonsensical, Caroline. You're afraid of being alone when one of the pillars of your world has just collapsed. But if the idea of loneliness frightens you, then you should know that you're not, nor will you ever be, alone. Niklaus won't go anywhere unless you physically make him. I've been trying to remove him from my bed for weeks and it's been a pain. He's not leaving this house unless you carry him out." That draws a chuckle out of her, which makes Elijah's struggle with his brother worth something, after all. The sound sends relief thrumming across him. It has been a while since they last heard it in this house. “And no matter where I am, I'll always be just a phone call away. If you need me, I'll come. If you merely desire to talk, I'll listen. I'm sure you've understood by now that Always and Forever aren't just words we throw in the wind. It means something. But perhaps more importantly - neither of us are doing this out of responsibility. We do it out of love. Because we care for you. And it's nothing you wouldn't do for us."

At last, she gives him a smile that brightens up her eyes. She nods her head at him vehemently, and Elijah pulls her closer into a half embrace, which she returns warmly. He places a kiss on her temple and then allows her to pull away.

He catches the single tear that managed to escape her stronghold with his thumb, wiping it away. "If you want me to stay, I will," he repeats. “It’s no burden at all. I just want to give you some space, and I genuinely think you could use it.”

Caroline grins again. "No, it's ok. You're right. I can’t have people babysitting me forever. At some point, I have to -" She cuts herself off with a wheezing sigh, the words _move on_ still catching at the back of her throat.

"Are you quite certain?"

"I'm quite certain," she says with a nod.

"If you change your mind -”

“I won’t.”

Elijah nods at her, a smile kicking at his lips. “So..." he starts again, wanting to move the subject along so her mind might stay distracted a while more. "Are there any more child pictures for me to see?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**One week later…**

The sight of the mighty Original hybrid lounging in her living room is one Caroline doesn't think will ever get old.

There's a natural contrast there that cannot be unseen, like the very air inside the house somehow repels him, his evil villain persona clashing with the married-in-the-80s suburban family atmosphere. It simmers against the contour of his body, making Klaus and his rich-bad-boy-meets-rock-and-roll-star looks, with dark jeans and Henley shirts and fancy, expensive jackets stand out like a sore thumb against the pastel colors and flowery patterns of the decor. It's just _wrong_. Klaus belongs in lavish mansions, with marbled floors, crystal chandeliers, art pieces hanging on every wall and the flickering light of a candelabra, not amid the plain ordinary setting of a middle-class living room.

Ever since Elijah went back to New Orleans, things have both become quieter and more awkward. Before, she could at least pretend the two of them were keeping each other busy; now, it's only too obvious how much Klaus doesn't belong here. He got himself a sketchbook and some pencils and that's pretty much how he spends his time He takes Eve out for strolls in the sun, hits the blood banks and the hospitals to renew their stashes. Sometimes he shows up with dinner he probably compels out of the chefs at the few fancy restaurants in town, all of which are certainly not up to his high standards. Caroline knows he goes out for _snacks_ , too, but he doesn’t talk, and she doesn't ask. Nobody seems to have died yet, so. At least he’s being careful. Or so she likes to think, anyway. She'd rather not know.

It's all so very domestic. _Too_ domestic for Klaus to be really enjoying any of that.

Having Klaus around the house is a comfort Caroline is not at all ready to give up on. Watching him with Eve or engrossed in his drawings and listening to the sound of his voice are the only things breaking through the coat of misery surrounding her these days. But she can't pretend not to know how miserable this whole setting makes him. It's been weeks now, not to mention the time he spent as a wolf, hiding in the woods.

It's staggering how Klaus is willing to withstand all this for her when, in truth, he must be _dying_ \- or, more accurately, desperate to kill - to go back to his own home. Back to his studio, his wine cellar, his music and art and culture, the supernatural shenanigans and his hordes of minions. All things he loves, things that give him life, that put a skip in his step. All things Mystic Falls sorely lacks. And Caroline is not even a decent enough company right now to at least make up for all that he’s missing.

Being here costs Klaus something. It's a burden, and not a small one. He might even prefer staying a wolf than facing the social conviviality of day-to-day Mystic Falls. That kind of life must suffocate him, like a dementor, draining joy out of him. There’s no doubt that he's more comfortable with his primal, bestial instincts than he is with simple domesticity.

Maybe Elijah talked him into it, shoved a good dose of guilt down his throat to make sure he wouldn't leave, too. Caroline is so very grateful, but... She can't help but feel like she’s trapping a majestic wild animal in a cage and punching tranquilizers into him to keep him pliant.

This is not Klaus, simple as that.

He wouldn't be here if Liz wasn't dead or if he didn't feel remorse over ghosting her for so long. To his credit, he hasn't complained about anything. Well, he takes jabs at her friends whenever the opportunity arises and at the run-of-the-mill quirks of small-town life that makes everything seem so _pedestrian_ to him, but Klaus does that for sport. Offering unasked for snarky commentary on everything ranks among his favorite things, right between mass murder and art. Other than that, he's been on his absolute best behavior. Which is precisely what bothers her so much.

Klaus, not complaining about anything? Not acting up? Not showing even the slightest bite of a temper? If she didn’t know better, she’d think Elijah had him compelled.

When she goes down, on the way to the kitchen, she finds him, as always, drawing in the living room. Feet up the center table, sketchbook propped on his legs and a line of concentration between his eyes as his wrist dances deftly over the paper. It's a thing of beauty, to see Klaus ensnared by his art, captured by inspiration. It's a moment of surrender on his part, a rare one, when he occasionally allows for tension and years and years of accumulated anger to bleed off his body completely and drift onto his work instead.

Caroline never thought that watching someone draw could have such a calming effect, just as she never thought that listening to an art snob discourse about his passions and name-dropping a bunch of dead geniuses he's crossed paths with could be a turn-on, but there you go. Such is the magic of Klaus.

She approaches him with soft steps, easing down onto the armchair across from him. He lifts his eyes off the paper, casting her a quick glance.

"Everything alright, love?"

Caroline munches on her lower lip, considering her answer. He’s been asking her that every other day. She conjures up a smile that does not resonate and says, _Yeah, super_. They both know she's lying, but he doesn’t press, and she doesn’t back down. Today, something feels different.

"I don't know," she replies after a beat. Her sudden honesty causes Klaus to stop drawing, focusing his attention all on her. "Do you hate being here?"

Klaus cocks his head, brow furrowing with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You hate Mystic Falls," she states, not as an accusation. It's a straightforward fact. Like saying he doesn't like A- or flannel shirts. Caroline doesn't hold it against him that he dislikes her hometown. Klaus' larger-than-life nature makes it easy to forget that he wasn’t always an immortal myth, that there was a point in time before the legend, and Mystic Falls is where he was born, a thousand years before her. All those traumas and violence that scarred him for eternity happened right here, in the woods surrounding her house. "I remember you were always desperate to skip town. You never wanted to be back here, not if you could help it. Between being a wolf and now, you’ve been here for months. I know you're not comfortable, and you can't tell me that you're happy living in this tiny house with no staff to compel."

"I assure you I've lived at much more humble abodes over the years."

"Not the point. It's not where you want to be."

"What exactly makes you think that?"

"Everything," she shrugs. "History. Evidence. The fact I know you."

Klaus’ frown deepens as he regards her pensively, his eyes searching her face. "Are you trying to say something, Caroline?"

She resists the urge to let her gaze drop, keeping her eyes locked with his, doing her best to ignore the uncomfortable tightness in her chest. It's not by chance that she's been avoiding this conversation for so long. The thought of being left alone in the house, just her and Eve and all the mistakes that are surely just waiting to happen, is as strong now as it was on the day her mother passed away. At the same time she wants him to be honest, she dreads hearing the truth. But it’s not fair to him and not fair to her either to keep this going any longer. If he wants to go, he should be allowed to, and she should be prepared for it. She’d rather know it now than have him suddenly ghost her for months again.

Bracing herself for the impact, she swallows past her sudden bout of nerves and asks, "Why didn't you leave with Elijah?"

Something flickers across his face, too fast for her to pin it down. All that registers on his practiced expression is the light press of his lips. "Do you wish I had?"

"I -"

Caroline's denial dies on the tip of her tongue when the doorbell rings. She lets out a disgruntled sigh, annoyed to be interrupted just as she finally gathered the courage to brave through this conversation. "I can't take any more casseroles," she grumbles with frustration, ready to push herself off the chair.

"I'll get rid of them for you," Klaus volunteers, putting his sketchbook aside and standing up.

"Thank you," she says with relief. There's only so many times she can fake a smile a day whenever someone stops by to offer her some sympathy in the form of food. She doesn't want to be rude, many of those people were friends of her mother's and truly cared, but she just needs this part to be over already. When the neighbors decide to start offering her sympathy blood donations, she'll be glad to answer the door again.

And then something occurs to her. "Not literally!" she cries out once Klaus disappears down the hall towards the door.

"You're no fun," she hears the smile on his voice.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The pleasant grin on Klaus' face descends into a hard line.

He never thought he'd see the day when he'd be glad for an unsolicited visitor - one he has to open the door to himself, nonetheless -, but that bell was rather heaven-sent. He's not entirely certain he wanted to hear what Caroline was about to say. What she was about to ask him to do.

Her assumption, however misguided, wasn't entirely incorrect. Klaus has no love for Mystic Falls, never did, never will. For her, Mystic Falls is a safety net. It's familiar. Home. For him, it's damnation. The fact the woods that took everything from him once also gave him everything he cherishes the most now - limitless power, his daughter, Caroline - does not tame the way he feels about this place. The very air here is choked with the heartbreak and the fear that marred Klaus' brief human experience. It's the weakest he's ever been, the most cowardly and diminished, and even though he couldn't be further away from that sad figure if he tried, the mere reminder is enough to leave him rattled. All of that resonates more strongly here than anywhere else, almost like that wretchedness had bled into this soil, making this whole land rotten.

This is the place where Mikael's abuse destroyed any shred of decency he might've ever possessed. Where his mother's betrayal meant he never had a chance to be loved by a father who only cherished strength. The place where he and his siblings were all brutally murdered and brought back to life with an unquenchable thirst. Where he found Ansel's dead body, and knew he would never have a chance to know the love of a parent. Where his brother assassinated the first woman the two of them ever loved.

When they left, they vouched to never come back, and if the doppelganger who were to put an end to a millennium-old, soul-crushing obsession didn't happen to rise from this very ground, he would've never set foot here again. If he didn't depend on her blood to create his army, he wouldn't have come back once he was gone. And if it wasn't for Caroline, he would've never stayed. And it's only because of her, as well as Eve, that the idea of going back to New Orleans disturbs him far more than another lengthy stay in cursed Mystic Falls.

Klaus took Elijah's advice to heart, allowing her to move at her own pace, not pushing for anything more than she's willing to offer herself, even when he wants nothing more than to be close to her. Caroline's still very much grieving, often withdrawing into herself, not much for conversations. A far cry from her bubbly, sunny disposition. But the companionship has been pleasant, as much as possible. Klaus can't remember the last time he's had days as slow and idle as these, and, much to his own astonishment, he finds he doesn't completely abhor it.

Ever the changeable, unruly soul that he is, Klaus has never quite learned how to sit still, always after something to push his life out of its inertia. Spending so many years on the run made him restless, and he never really learned how to settle after that, even as they finally found a harbor in New Orleans. Something about him was irremediably broken, and so Klaus had to keep moving, keep reaching out for more, had to feed the devouring cracks of darkness inside of him. Klaus _wants_ ; that has defined him for as long as he can remember. Now, however...

Klaus' once ungovernable appetite for _more_ \- more blood, more conquests, more power, more subjects to answer to his every whim - has narrowed down to one thing, and one thing only: he wants Caroline to be nursed back to happiness. It's well within his obsessive nature, he guesses, having something that precious taking up so much space inside of him, but still a considerable change from what his insatiable cravings used to be. The world and its endless temptations be damned. All he wants now is the only thing he had always been denied - sometimes by ulterior forces, most times by himself: love. Not the familial type he has for his siblings, the type that cannot be avoided. But real, all-consuming, burning love. The kind that thrums through his veins, sometimes like wine, sometimes like poison, occupying his thoughts, sinking its roots into his very core. The kind he feels for Caroline and for their daughter.

All of a sudden, all the great Klaus Mikaelson wishes for is calm, quiet days to enjoy the placid flow of life by their side. A pleasant meal with Caroline, a completely preposterous animated movie that somehow keeps Eve's ever curious eyes glued to the television for hours. Things that are as alien to him as bloodsucking vampires are to an ordinary person.

It's miles away from what his normal resting state of mind would be. No enemies to plot against, no realm to conquer, no petty rivalry to withstand. Whenever things get _too_ slow and Klaus starts to feel the beginnings of a disruptive shake in his guts, he'll step outside for some _refreshments_. Warm blood never ceases to revive his spirits.

It's not something he ever envisioned for himself, and something the old Klaus, the pre-Mystic Falls Klaus, forged out of hunger and megalomaniac lust in the bowels of hell, would've sneered at and spat on and set fire to before it could ever come to pass. He dares say, somewhat begrudgingly, however, that this is rather... Nice. A life without any major immediate concerns, no threats to contend with. He misses New Orleans, of course, and he would certainly want to go back at some point, maybe even go elsewhere, take Caroline and Eve to see the wonders of the world, but for now... He's unexpectedly, oddly fine.

Except now Caroline has stirred up this vexing conversation and he doesn't know if he's been mistakenly reading the situation all along, thinking she was enjoying his proximity as much as he enjoyed hers while she wishes he'd gone with Elijah. His brother was certain that she'd want him to stay, and when Elijah speaks with that kind of unflappable rectitude, Klaus just believes him. But perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps Caroline's subdued demeanor is not grief, after all, but discomfort, unhappiness over the fact he didn't leave her alone. Perhaps the hours she spends in quiet contemplation by herself are really just her polite way of letting him know she does not wish to see him. Perhaps all this time she's been trying to get him out the door, and since he's failed to take a famous hint, she's decided to just tell him.

The mere thought cracks through his fragile calm and sends a spiral of unease rising through him, a mix of anger and disappointment quaking at his guts. It feels like it's over.

He walks to the door with slow steps, considering whether to scare away whoever it is quickly or to stall, get Caroline distracted long enough so that he can go out and delay the conversation. But as soon as he opens the door, Klaus knows he won't have to worry about that any time soon.

His mouth draws into a slow, crooked smile as the diminutive woman before him tries - and fails - to disguise a slight flinch. She recovers fast though, hazel eyes sudden alight as she grinds her jaw and sticks it up.

"Sweetheart," he calls to Caroline. "I think you'll want to take this one."

"Seriously?" she grumbles lowly under a huff, something the visitor surely doesn't hear.

Klaus steps to the side when she pads over to the door, freezing when she finally lays eyes on the girl.

Her jaw drops to her feet, eyes widening in a cartoonish expression that slowly starts to crumple as the tears well up.

"Hi," the girl says, a broad smile finally springing to her lips as she focuses her attention all on Caroline.

"Oh my..." Caroline chokes out. "Bonnie!"

She pulls her friend into a tight embrace, which Bonnie Bennett returns tenfold.

Klaus has no idea how she managed to escape the Gemini's prison world, but he's sure it must be a long and winding story, which is everything he needs. He doesn't particularly care either way, but Caroline will, for certain, and the two of them will have much to catch up.

He never thought he'd see the day he'd be grateful for a Bennett witch, but there you go.

"Ouch, Care," Bonnie whines. "A little much!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," Caroline says, slackening the embrace. "I'm a vampire now," she adds apologetically, as though she expects to be chided for it.

Bonnie grins instead, squeezing Caroline's forearms. "I know."

Bonnie meets his eyes over Caroline's shoulders when the two of them embrace once more, her gaze sharpening in an instant, making it clear that she may not be willing to chastise her friend for the terrible woes she was put through, but knows exactly who to blame for all of it.

Well, blame away. It's not like Klaus doesn't already do it himself, very much aware of the terrible weight of his failures at all times. Right now, all that matters is that smile on Caroline's face. Anything to take her mind off the pain of the last few weeks is more than welcome, even if that comes in the form of a petite headstrong witch who, like most of her kind, loathes him.

Klaus offers her a light bow of his head, an amused however cheeky grin plastered on his lips that he knows must annoy her deeply, and then he turns around and disappears back into the house.

No, he won’t need to worry about Caroline thrashing whatever’s left of his so-called heart tonight. Bonnie Bennett might’ve just saved him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"So... Damon and Stefan's mother is back from the dead?" Caroline’s face creases with confusion as she tries to make sense of the information Bonnie just shared. “Stefan told me she died of consumption when he was a child.”

"That’s what everyone thought, but Lily Salvatore was never really dead," Bonnie explains. "She was turned into a vampire. And she's not exactly back either. Not yet, anyway. Right now, all we have is confirmation that she's alive and trapped in a prison world."

Caroline's eyebrows shoot up as she takes it all in. Bonnie's stint in the prison world was rough, to say the least. Hearing her friend recount the story made it all seem so much worse than getting it second-hand from Stefan and Elena, or even the small parts she got from Damon himself. It broke her heart how shaken Bonnie was to even remember the moment when she almost gave up, ready to accept that she was never getting out.

It was Damon's interference that helped her remember that there was a way for her to access magic in that world, which eventually got her out. Caroline hates to feel like she owes Damon anything, but he deserves a polite thank you nod for the part he played in getting Bonnie back.

She wasn't the only one with the heavy heart, though. Bonnie's story of helplessness and fear was brutal and gut-wrenching, but Caroline's tales from New Orleans were just as harrowing for her friend to hear. By now, she's been through this so many times that she's learned how to speak about her daughter's birth and transition and the whole mess with Dahlia without tearing up, but Bonnie's own wet eyes almost broke her.

The witch came prepared, having heard bits and pieces from Stefan and Elena, who wanted her to know what she'd be walking into so her complete shock wouldn't come as a blow to Caroline. Mostly, though, they wanted her to be ready for the possibility that Klaus would be answering the door. It was very smart of them; even though she knew what to expect, and that Klaus wouldn't be flashing his shiny teeth at her (probably), she was still visibly tense. Klaus has that lovely effect on people whose lives he terrorized for years.

Still, Bonnie wanted to know everything, and, much to her surprise, Caroline found that she wanted to share. Even parts that took her months to tell Elena in full. She always found it easier to open up around Bonnie. She was this level-headed, soft-spoken balance to Caroline's expansive and more fiery personality. But after expression and death, sacrifice after sacrifice, becoming the Anchor and getting trapped in the prison world, it's easy to spot the hardened shell she's grown.

Caroline has changed in the last two years, and she never really understood how much until she came back home, but so has Bonnie. They didn't have a choice; it was either grow up and grow hard or die. And yet, when she looks at Caroline, Bonnie’s beautiful hazel eyes are flooding with affection and understanding. For just a second, it’s like nothing changed. Like they haven’t strayed that far off, after all.

God, how Caroline missed her... Even though she had Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah and so many others in Louisiana, there are some things, some people, that nothing and no one could ever replace. And the way Bonnie makes Caroline feel _home_ , sending her immediately back to a time when things were easier and the stakes weren't so high, before vampires and witchcraft, is one of those.

Caroline was in desperate need of good news to help cancel out the dreary greyness of her days as she attempted to pick herself up, and Bonnie’s return is the exact amount of joy injection she needed. It's like a breath of life, pushing happiness into the chambers of her heart that had shut down since her mother's death. A win in the middle of a whole lot of loss. God only knows how much Caroline needed that.

Not everything about their reunion was sob stories and hardships, though. At the end of Caroline's story, there is a cute little baby that makes everything worth it.

By now, Caroline's pretty sure it's impossible for any human being with a half a heart (which eliminates half of Klaus' family) to look at Eve and not fall immediately in love. She is just that adorable a baby. And her theory was once more confirmed by Bonnie; the connection there was instantaneous.

She knows everyone gets a little apprehensive when they hear Eve is Klaus' daughter. It’s… Impactful. Not to mention completely unexpected. It defies everything they know about the supernatural world and its rules, creates a precedent that is almost as baffling as Klaus' hybrid nature was. If vampires can now procreate, what else can they do? What _can't_ they do? Is anything sacred anymore? Caroline's been through all that questioning herself, and it took her long months of an impossible baby kicking in her womb for her to accept that the hows and whys didn't matter anymore. She was pregnant with Klaus' impossible child whether she could understand it or not.

Other people, however, still get edgy; no one knows what to expect. _Tribrid_ is a cursed word in their vocabulary. They probably envision something more like the kid from The Shining, and less like the cute, smiley baby with the chubby cheeks and the big eyes. But the shock wears off in a second. Suddenly, it doesn't matter anymore that she's the Original hybrid's offspring, and canceling out her father's crappy history with Mystic Falls is no small feat. Making such a cute baby gives Klaus points. Temporarily, anyway; as soon as he opens his mouth, everyone wants to revoke his license to remain undisturbed in town.

While they talk on the living room couch, with tea and cookies, Bonnie has Eve on her lap the whole time, entertaining the baby by making her plush wolf float in front of her, to her great delight. And every time she erupts into merry-eyed laughter, Bonnie laughs with her. Such is the magic of babies. And of actual magic.

Caroline is so happy that she would gladly just sit there and watch as her childhood best friend makes her baby shriek with joy, trying to imagine what it'll be like in a few years, when Eve's own powers begin to manifest in more obvious ways. But she has to draw Bonnie's attention back to her for a moment, because that story about Mama Salvatore is quite something. One more impossible weirdness on Mystic Falls' never-ending list of disasters. Nothing is ever as you think around here. Vampires can also be werewolves. Dead men can get people pregnant. And sweet, dead mothers are neither as sweet nor as dead as you once believed.

"So, what are Stefan and Damon going to do about it?" she asks after a pause for Bonnie to fawn over Eve.

"I don't know. But I have a feeling Damon's going to try and get her out. He's been calling me nonstop. Wants me to talk to -”

Bonnie cuts herself off when Klaus' laughter cuts in. He'd politely stayed out of sight since her arrival, Caroline even thought he'd slipped out for his no-so-secret snacks, so quiet he'd been. She realizes now he had been listening to their conversation the whole time. Not that it's easy not to, with his super hybrid hearing and how thin the walls are in this house. Apparently, he couldn't keep his amusement to himself anymore, coming down the stairs with his dimples in full display.

Caroline arches an eyebrow at him. “What are you laughing at?”

"I'm sorry, it's just... The whole mother back from the depths of the underworld situation is hysterical." He cracks up laughing again.

Bonnie stares at him with a blank expression, like she has no idea how to process it - the fact that it's Klaus there jumping into their private conversation, or that he thinks it's super funny that Damon and Stefan are suffering through the whole _surprise! revived parents_ thing now.

Caroline turns back to Bonnie with an unimpressed twist of her lips. "You'll have to excuse him. Klaus has a wacky sense of humor."

"I'm surprised he has a sense of humor at all," her friend replies, still somewhat taken aback.

Klaus scoffs. "Whatever do you mean by that? I'm hilarious.”

Both Bonnie and Caroline snort loudly.

"Now I get it," Bonnie says, biting back on a laugh. Caroline can't help the chuckle, even as Klaus narrows his eyes at Bonnie, mouth set with a tight-lipped not-quite-smile.

A surge of warmth shoots past the pain and the doubts that have settled inside of Caroline, the light-heartedness of it all finding purchase in the space of her chest devastated by grief. This is something she was yet to see, Klaus being around her friends not as someone with an ulterior motive, using them as pawns in some evil plot or another, not being purposefully unpleasant. He's just there, being his outrageous self in as mild and harmless a manner as he ever could. Like someone who has a place in her life. Someone who's there to stay.

Her heart gives a happy flip - because she loves him, because she loves Bonnie, because she can't remember the last time she didn't feel completely desolate.

A smile flickers over Caroline's lips, small and private, communicating gratefulness and fondness and an understanding that is only theirs. Klaus returns it with one of his crooked grins, dark blue eyes alight as they settle on her.

The moment is interrupted by Eve fussing on Bonnie's lap, trying to lean into Caroline, with arms stretched forward as she calls for her mama.

"What is it? What did I do?" Bonnie asks, raising an exasperated look at Caroline.

Caroline checks for the source of discomfort, finding it in her baby's diaper. "I think she needs an emergency change." Her sing-song tune is accompanied by a flutter of her eyelashes in Klaus' direction.

He lets out a defeated sigh as he pads towards her, but offers no protest. "Come on, sweetheart. That's cue for us to vacate the premises," he says with a little hint of spite as he takes Eve in his arms. She goes easily, little face crumpled up like she's ready to start bawling as she snuggles up to her father.

Caroline frowns at the stupefied look on Bonnie’s face as Klaus disappears up the stairs.

"What?" she asks.

"What?!" Bonnie parrots, somewhere between disbelief and shock. "You have him potty trained!"

Caroline shrugs, her smile turning smug. "What can I say? I'm the Original whisperer."

"I am _astonished_."

"I'd be lying if I said it's always this easy, but, in his defense, he's been _very_ cooperative since - well, you know." She motions her hand vaguely. "Trust me, most of the time, I'm astonished, too."

Bonnie huffs out a laugh, unable to decide whether to be impressed or horrified, and the two of them sit in silence for a bit while her friend lets it stew. It's not charged or uncomfortable, but Caroline has been through this moment of quiet contemplation too many times since her return to Mystic Falls not to recognize it for what it is. Right about now, a complete list of all of Klaus' terrible deeds must be playing through Bonnie's mind like a movie. Caroline can almost hear the wheels turning in her friend's head, all the questions forming, ready to come out.

 _How did this happen?_ , _Did he force himself on you?_ , _Were you compelled?_ , _Were you drunk?_ , _Did he threaten you?_ , _Did he lock you up?_ , _How sure are you that the baby is his?_

Different degrees of suspicion, same questions. Over and over. She gets it, it's totally unexpected and Klaus left a trail of destruction forged in hard feelings and bad memories behind when he left Mystic Falls. It’s hard for some of them to imagine him as anything but the ruthless hybrid king who wreaked havoc all over. But it also gets old pretty fast.

Klaus and Elijah being around during her mother's illness got everyone to lay off a little. There were tons of glares and squirmish reactions all around, but they either accepted defeat or just got used to having Originals close by in a mostly non-threatening way. But Bonnie wasn't here for the first wave of consternation, didn't get to live through the adaptation period. She's yet to make all the questions and voice out all of the opinions Caroline's certain she has.

Maybe if it was anyone else, or if she hadn't just come back from months stuck in a prison world, Caroline would just roll her eyes and tell her to keep it to herself. But it's _Bonnie_. She’s gotten a lot of heat from Caroline in the past and she's been through a hell of a lot. If she wants to vent about Klaus, well. So be it.

Instead of protesting, Caroline lets out a heavy sigh, bracing herself for the _Are you out of your mind?_ commentary.

"Go on," she prods. "He's left the room, you can give me the talk."

Bonnie blinks at her. "The talk?"

"I've gotten it from everyone else. The whole Klaus-is-evil, how-could-you, are-you-insane, etc, etc. talk. Just... Get it off your chest. I can take it."

Bonnie tilts her head to the side, her lips quirking into an awkward smile. "I'm not gonna give you the talk, Care."

Caroline’s eyebrows slash together. “You won’t?” Bonnie shakes her head. "But you hate Klaus."

“Well - yes. If this had happened a few years ago, I would be really hard on you, not gonna lie. But I just spent months trapped in an alternate time loop with Damon and I guess that changed my perspective on evil jackasses with superlative egos. We're kind of friends now, Damon and I. Though not for long, if he doesn't stop pressuring me to forgive Kai," she finishes with an indignant huff. “That asshole left me in that prison world to die. I don’t care if he grew the conscience of a nun, I’m not forgiving him.”

"Well... Evil villains do tend to bond. Kai has been hanging out at his place a lot, from what I hear. He thinks Damon is his _buddy_. Probably because he never had a buddy before, so he doesn’t really know what a friend is supposed to be like. It’s kinda sad, if you think about it."

"That would be a group chat Klaus could definitely join."

"Klaus is more of a lone wolf. Kinda like a diva. He doesn’t like sharing the spotlight."

Bonnie chuckles, shaking her head. "Elena told me not to go too hard on Klaus cause you were protective of him now, but I don’t even have to go hard on him because you’re making the deprecating jokes yourself."

"I’m not _protective_ ,” Caroline objects. “I just… Have a different point of view, sometimes. But I’m not blind either," she says around an eye roll. "If I don't make these jokes, it'll just remain a giant gorilla in the room. Just because I had a baby with him, it doesn't mean I suddenly got amnesia. And if you’re wondering, I tell these things to his face, too. I'm very self-aware. And so is he, to be honest. He takes zero offense in being labeled as a villain - in fact, he’ll probably take it as a compliment."

"You know, I have to say… Even though I was told that I’d probably be a little overwhelmed by what I would see here, this is beyond anything I had imagined. He's taking care of babies, you're bossing him around - and, I mean, you do that to everyone, except he's _Klaus_. It's like... _Nice_ ," she says, scrunching up her face as though her brain refuses to associate the foreign idea of _Klaus_ and _nice_ on the same sentence.

Almost instinctively, Caroline’s hand goes up to touch the moss agate on her neck, a soft smile curling her lips. "Well... It hasn't always been a picnic, but... It is nice. He can do nice, if he wants to."

Bonnie puts a hand on her leg, leaning slightly forward and looking her straight in the eye. "Are you happy?" she asks. "I know you're not happy _right now_ because of your mom, but... In general. Does he make you happy?"

Caroline stares levelly at her friend, making herself as open as she knows how. She's not sure what kind of reassurance Bonnie is looking for here, but she can tell her question comes from a place of genuine concern, not drenched in judgement or casting doubt over Caroline's feelings. And maybe because of that, she feels compelled to be honest in a way she was yet to be when discussing Klaus with her friends.

"Yes," she replies at last. "He does. He makes me feel... Understood. And important. And appreciated for who I am, with all the flaws and the annoying parts. I'm not going to lie - Klaus is high maintenance, but... He's worth it. Underneath that evil villain persona, there's someone who sees the world in a way that makes it light up with wonder and mystery. Someone who's smart and charming and thoughtful - when he cares enough, anyway. When I'm with him... Everything makes sense. It’s like I’ve just found my place. I feel like I can be myself and that’s enough. Things in New Orleans were never easy, but whenever I think about the reasons why I stayed for as long as I did, I think of how I felt when I was with him. He believes in me, even more than I do myself sometimes. Makes me feel there's nothing that I can't do. And I know it's weird when I talk about him that way, but... I really do love him, Bonnie."

The confession sinks inside of her at the same time it rolls out of her mouth. There's nothing new there for her, but it's like getting clobbered in the back of her head by a clarity that had been buried since her mother passed away. She can see how much solace she's been drawing from Klaus' mere presence - from just waking up in the morning and listening to him having conversations with Eve that are way too complex for a one-year-old to understand but that make her laugh anyway. More importantly, she can see how devastating it will be once he's gone.

She expects skepticism from Bonnie. She expects judgement. She even expects that questioning look that says she's wondering whether Caroline has completely lost her mind. Instead, Bonnie's whole face brightens with an earnest smile.

"I believe you. Maybe a few years ago I would've thought that you were being compelled, but after everything we've been through... I just want you to be happy, Care. If he really makes you feel that way, then there must be something redeemable about him, even if it’s just the fact that he truly cares about you and knows how to change a diaper. And honestly? I've seen weirder than a big baddie falling in love."

Caroline pulls Bonnie into a tight hug, grateful and relieved that she understands, yes, but also because she's back, safe and sound. Bonnie’s hands run up and down Caroline’s back in a smooth caress, and for a while the two of them just stay there, afraid to move out of that bubble where everything is warm and nothing hurts.

After a moment, however, Bonnie gently starts to pull away, her eyes wandering to the armchair where she left her bag. She chews on her bottom lip, brow creasing with a thought. "Listen," she speaks slowly, facing Caroline once more. "I have something for you."

Caroline watches with curiosity as her friend stands up to get her bag. Bonnie folds a leg under her body as she settles down again. Caroline notices the little hesitation before she pulls an object out of her things. It looks like a little jewelry box, old and made of silver, with beautiful intricate details embossed all around it, but so spent you can hardly see what they used to be.

"I actually brought this with me from 1994 to give to Damon," she explains. "I found this map he made while he was still there on how to get to it. But... Now that I'm here, I think you deserve it more."

Bonnie pushes the box into Caroline's hands. She gets a strange chill as her fingers close around the cool metal. Something that Damon wanted from 1994? She looks up at her friend with a jittery question, but Bonnie remains tight-lipped, prodding her to open it.

Inside the box, a small, translucent, incredibly fragile-looking vial, with a crimson viscous liquid, rests on a bed of velvet. The fuzzy warmth inside of Caroline freezes to ice, her heart going into overdrive before tripping over a beat. She'd never really seen this with her own two eyes, not until now, but somehow she knows exactly what it is, can almost feel the powerful magic that emanates from it, calling out to her.

This little vial... It caused such destruction around Mystic Falls. It took over everyone's lives even before they knew it was real. Caroline was already settled in New Orleans, heavily pregnant, and they were still dealing with the aftermath of that whole messy affair. And in the end, it was all for nothing.

Such a tiny thing, with barely a dose inside, but holding so much power over so many people.

"You found the cure in 1994," she breathes out, not really as a question, fingers hovering over the vial, afraid of touching. "How do you even know it works?"

"The prison world is a cut of our world that got trapped in an eternal loop. Just like magic works, this will, too. It’s real."

"You said you were going to give it to Damon?"

Bonnie nods. "So that he could give it to Elena. It's why he wanted to find it."

That makes sense. Whenever Caroline thinks of the cure - whenever _anyone_ thinks of the cure - the first person to spring to mind is Elena. She was always the first in line to take it, there was never a question about who all that effort was for. Elena had to be human again. That was it, end of story.

Which begs the question...

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"Not gonna lie, I had to give it a long thought," Bonnie admits, somewhat sheepishly. "I always thought if I had the cure, it would be for Elena. But when I came out, I realized... She is ok. Elena is happy. She has Damon. Jeremy is back. She finally made peace with herself. I would still have given it to her, but when I found out about what happened to you, Care... My heart broke. Death is awful no matter how it happens, and I know that better than anyone, but to go through what you did..." Bonnie bites on her lower lip, shaking her head against the tears welling up in her eyes. "You have a daughter now. You deserve to have this choice more than anyone else."

Caroline's chest moves in a silent exhale, disbelief edging her features along with fondness for her friend. She doesn't really know what to say.

As a witch, she'd always stood aside from any practical discussions, but she'd been of the opinion that there was no way she'd ever want to stay a vampire, given the choice. During the first few months after her transition, she'd longed for nothing more. When Esther waved the possibility of a mortal life in her face, the idea sank its teeth into Caroline faster than she could cast it away. She would never take that deal, but it made her wonder, and that was enough to give her pause - a pause that fed Esther with confidence and pissed off Klaus.

And now here it is, in her hands. Not a bad bargain from a bitch with ulterior motives, but the real deal. No strings attached, no catches. The fabled, infamous cure. Not just being a witch again, but growing old with her daughter instead of seeing the passage of time as though from behind a glass wall, never quite able to touch it.

In theory, it sounds perfect. And maybe a year ago, she wouldn't have hesitated. Now, however...

Why isn't her heart skipping joyful beats? Why is her stomach tight with knots?

"Bonnie, I..." she stammers, fumbling for words. "I don't know - I never... I thought there was no cure. I didn't... Consider it. Ever. Not really."

"You don't have to decide anything now. It's yours. Keep it. Take it. Or don't. Whatever you decide, when you decide it, it's fine. This is not to pressure you, Care, it's just to give you a choice that should've never been taken from you in the first place."

The anxiety in Caroline's chest is mollified by Bonnie's reassuring words, and her lips quirk up into a smile. Before she left Mystic Falls, Caroline was rarely ever given choices to anything. People just decided what they collectively needed - always with someone else in mind - and she went along with it because they were her friends and she loved them very much. But if she says that always being relegated to second priority didn't hurt at times, she'd be lying.

This, right here, is Bonnie putting her first. Caroline knows exactly what it means, and how impossible it must've been for her to make this decision, to deny Elena the cure. It's huge, and Caroline is so very grateful for it. Even if she has no idea what to do with it.

"Thank you," she says earnestly, taking Bonnie's hand in hers.

"I'm sorry we weren't there for you, Care. You were always here for us, and when you needed us the most, we didn’t even know. Maybe if I wasn't dead, Rebekah wouldn't have been able to compel me, and I would've known -"

"Hey," she cuts her off gently. "Don't, ok? There's no point. Besides - are you seriously going to blame yourself for _dying_? Come on, Bon."

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Ok," she drawls. "You have a point."

"Of course I do," Caroline replies lightly. "I'm always right. Ask Klaus."

The witch chuckles. "I missed you so much, Care. This city was not the same without you."

She closes the lid on the silver box, deciding she will dwell on all of this later, once her thoughts aren't so scrambled and her emotions, not so all over the place. For now, she's just going to enjoy the company of a good friend. “It wasn’t the same without you, either.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Camille sends her regards."

Caroline's eyebrows arch as her mouth draws into a slow smile, a familiar flutter of excitement blooming at the pit of her stomach.

In a rational, objective way, she realizes how ridiculous it is that something as innocent as a friend's greeting being sent through Elijah would get her buzzing. On the other hand, however, she is not at all embarrassed by her almost childish giddiness. This is how she copes.

Caroline's new strategy is to be a joy leech. She'll draw bliss and contentment from wherever it's available - Eve's hysterical laughter as she chases after the birds that come to eat the breadcrumbs Caroline scatters on their backyard; listening to the delicious vowels of Klaus' accent as he discourses for hours on end about encounters he's had with famous historical figures; Alaric finding out that he's going to be a father and proposing to Jo. Anything goes. Whatever puts a smile on other people's faces, Caroline will drink from it like it's the last drop of blood in a vampire's desert.

It's a temporary fix, and it never lasts. That sinking feeling always finds its way back. But living in other people's happy places does help make things more bearable, take her mind off her own pain for a little while. So long as Caroline is looking out, she's fine. It's usually when the night falls and the world goes quiet that it gets to her again.

One day, she hopes, things will get easier and she’ll finally be able to go to sleep without feeling like there’s a monster gnawing at her insides, trying to carve its way out, but while that remains firmly in the realm of expectations, she'll continue to borrow from others. And one person she'd be _very_ glad to take some joy from is Elijah. Knowing the people she loves are happy infuses her with energy, and Elijah needs that almost as much as she does.

Not for the first time, Caroline thinks that Cami really could be the answer to their collective woes. She's never said a word on it, not beyond some mild teasing, didn't want to be inappropriate. Besides, Elijah had something nice going on with Gia. But now that she's left... Maybe there's finally room for more. If not anything romantic, then at least a friendship that will bring some fulfillment for the two of them. More than sex, Elijah needs something in his life that is not about his family. Someone who's going to look at him and see him as a fully-fledged individual, rather than a part of a Mikaelson whole. Gia was that person before. Maybe Cami could be that person now.

And anyway, what can be better than two of her favorite people coming together?

"Is she there?" she asks, disguising her cheerful curiosity.

"She just left," Elijah replies, his practiced flat tenor giving nothing away.

"That's interesting," Caroline remarks lightly, giving room for Elijah's customary denials. _Whatever your colorful little head is picturing, Caroline, I assure you, it's nothing of the sort_ or _I do not know what you are implying, nor do I want to know, but allow me to say this one thing: no_. Instead, Elijah remains quiet. Her eyebrows disappear up her hairline. "Your lingering silence is even more interesting," she adds.

"Camille merely wanted to inquire about you," Elijah offers.

"Right," she drawls. "I guess she'd rather take your word than mine, seeing as she sends me dozens of messages every day."

"Don't let your thoughts wander too far off, Caroline. It'll tire you and offer very little reward." His words are a warning, but she can _hear_ the smile on his voice.

"Me? Never," she derides. "I'm just glad she got to - you know. _Inquire_ you. About me, of course."

"How is everything?" Elijah veers the subject away from delicate shores. Caroline decides not to push it. With Elijah, you have to know exactly how far to go. When it comes to discussing his feelings, he's just as skittish as Klaus, if not more. Like a baby deer in the headlights; any blunt moves and he goes scurrying away.

"Fine," she says, all the while knowing she's not fooling anyone. The real answer to Elijah's question would be more on the lines of _Well, like I was run over by a battalion of war tanks and haven't been able to stitch myself back together yet, but I'll let you know_. Knowing Elijah, he might be able to tell just based on that single, far-too-quick-to-be-honest answer she gave him. "Bonnie is back from the prison world!" she adds, mostly to keep him from making any follow up remarks she wouldn’t want to elaborate on, but at least she shows some genuine mirth this time.

"Oh? However did she manage to escape?"

"Through a very complicated combination of factors I frankly did not fully understand and do not have enough space left in my brain to remember in detail. Bottom line is, Bonnie's brilliant and she figured it all out even though she was on her own. She is safe and sound now."

"I'm glad."

"Yeah. I mean, not to make everything about me, but I was desperate for some good news."

"You're allowed to make things about you, Caroline," Elijah says softly.

"Any ideas on how I can make Ric and Jo's wedding about me? That would be a good one, too."

"Alaric Saltzman is getting married?"

"He is, and it'll happen soon, too, because she just found out she’s pregnant and does not want to put on too much baby weight before she walks down the aisle."

"I'm sure that's rather scandalous in Mystic Falls."

Caroline scoffs. "I wish! We're not as provincial as you make us out to be, ok? I resent that suggestion."

"Do forgive me, it was not my intention to make a mockery of your lovely town." Caroline can picture the smartass smirk on his face. "I hear provincialism is quite hyped these days."

"Oh, ha-ha. Says the thousand-years-old _grandpa_ , who, I'll remind you, grew up here as well. Your fine suits cannot mask your origins, Elijah Mikaelson."

"I… Don’t have an answer for that."

“Can I get that in writing, please? I would like to register this moment for future bragging rights.”

“I shall deny it till my last breath.”

She chuckles. "With the things that happen in this town every other week, I think everyone is just glad to have a wedding instead of a funeral, for a change. We've all ran out of black attire,” she says, and instantly gets a familiar ache in her throat. Too soon for some throwaway lines, it seems.

"Well, it is a lovely occasion," Elijah replies.

"Yeah. I've been invited to the bachelorette party."

"What exactly happens at a bachelorette party?"

"Oh, you know. The usual. Sometimes there are spa days. Drinking. Dancing. Male strippers. Dildos."

Elijah hums with interest, a smirk in his voice when he says slowly, "Is that so?"

" _Not_ for that, you dirty-minded vampire. It's just for fun and games not for - _actual_ fun and games."

"Far be it from me to judge. I’m all for female sexual liberation." Caroline huffs out a laugh. There are lots of dirty jokes at bachelorette parties and she's heard more than one story about things getting a little out of hand after one too many tequilas. Not that she thinks Jo would be one of those. In fact, Elena said she's already given a firm no to strippers - a request Elena _obviously_ looks forward to disrespecting.

Caroline also doesn't mention how she hasn't yet decided if she'll attend the celebration. She doesn't know if she's ready to rejoin civil society as something other than a buzzkill yet. It's meant to be a happy occasion, with cheerful people getting silly drunk and dancing around an old jukebox. Elena and Bonnie are being very persistent, saying it would be good for her to get her mind off things, leave Klaus in charge of the baby and enjoy a good girls’ night out. It's tempting, but she's still marinating the idea.

"What does Niklaus think?" Elijah asks.

"Surprising absolutely no one, he's not amused. Though I think it has less to do with me going out, and more to do with the fact he wasn't invited to the wedding, let alone to Ric's bachelor party. Butthurt feelings and all that."

Elijah actually chortles. Caroline tries to hold back her own snicker, but it just slips out. It is kind of hilarious.

When Elena stopped by to deliver the invitation, she made sure to point out it said _Caroline Forbes_ only, no mention of a plus one anywhere. That in itself wasn't surprising; what Caroline found truly astonishing was that Elena showed some honest sympathy for Klaus.

"I tried to talk to him, Care," she explained. "But Ric just hates him. He wanted me to deliver this personally because he wanted to make sure you know he'll be thrilled to have you and Eve there, but... Klaus is not welcome. So not welcome he didn’t even want to come here and risk bumping into him."

And, well. Klaus _did_ kill the woman Ric might've ended up marrying. How is she going to argue?

Klaus hates weddings and he hates Ric, so he technically has no reason to feel prickly over the fact he wasn't invited, but trust Klaus to always find a way to take offense. The whole principle of the thing is enough to dent his ego.

"I'd say it will hopefully teach him a lesson, but I'm afraid I know my brother far too well. That would be a deceit."

"I'm not holding my breath either. On the plus side, they did ask Eve to be the flower girl, so that's promising."

"Now you really do sound excited," Elijah says, his voice gentle.

"To see my daughter in a gorgeous princess dress, with a giant bow on her head, throwing flower petals while she draws _Ohs_ and _Ahs_ from an adoring crowd? _Of course_ I'm excited! I was _born_ for this moment. Your niece will be the most adorable flower girl this world has ever seen, and I am not being biased at all."

"I would never think otherwise."

As Caroline's chuckle dies down, her mind once more wanders off to the reason she called Elijah in the first place: a box hidden in the back of her closet. The little vial with the cure calls out to her, an energy that follows her around the house like a thorn in her side, refusing to go ignored. She's left it there since the night Bonnie gave it to her, determined to clear her thoughts and quiet down the whirlwind of doubts and mixed feelings before she even gave it a proper consideration. A week later and she still feels no closer to being ready to face that decision. If anything, Caroline is more distraught than ever.

It has become a torment, and it shouldn't be. It should be a relief. An answer. A mercy. At the very least, a safety net. But even though Bonnie didn't pressure her into making a decision and allowed her to take her time, Caroline can't shake the sense of responsibility that comes with getting her hands on the _freaking cure_. How many lives were lost or torn apart because of that? How many vampires in this world wouldn't give a limb for the chance to have it? How many of her own friends? It feels completely selfish to just sit on something this precious like it's some old pair of shoes. But having this awareness nagging at her every second of every day, as if the magic imbued in the cure is _pulsating_ in her closet like a living, breathing thing, is driving her out of her goddamn mind with guilt and questions she does not have the answer to.

Part of her wishes Bonnie had never given it to her. For once, Caroline wishes things had been as they always were and Bonnie had just thrusted the box into Damon's hands as she intended to do from the beginning and let it be his conscience inundated with these knife-twisting thoughts. It's not fair to blame it on Bonnie when she had nothing but good intentions, but... Sometimes, having the choice can be worse than not.

And just to make matters worse, this is a very lonely torment to go through. It’s not something she can open up to just about anybody. Bonnie has left it entirely up to her to choose whether to take it or keep it under lock. That's as generous as she could possibly be, but it does not offer much in terms of clarification. What Caroline needs is for someone wiser and more level-headed and with the emotions more in check to just tell her what to do, or give her an honest, eye-opening opinion that will suddenly make the clouds in her head part to reveal her heart's honest desire.

She wishes she could talk to Klaus.

He's always had an uncanny ability to see right through her masks, dredging up truths Caroline didn't even know were there until he coaxes them out. He knows her, in every way that counts. The ones that can't be put into words or explained. So much so that he’s noticed there’s something wrong with her. More than the usual, that is. But every time he’s attempted to ask, Caroline has cut him off with a fake smile and a simple _It’s nothing, everything’s fine_ that wouldn’t convince her baby, let alone Klaus.

As much as she wants to talk to him, she knows exactly where he would stand on the matter: firmly on the pissed off end.

Klaus is also the most assured vampire she's ever known. He thrives on being powerful, ageless, virtually indestructible. From all the things he loathes about himself, his monster is not one of them, their symbiotic coexistence likely the most untroublesome relationship of Klaus' life.

Years ago, she asked him if he would ever take the cure. He all but laughed in her face, arched his eyebrows at her as though saying _Is this some kind of joke?_. It was never a question for him, and Caroline can bet all her money on it not being a question about how he'd prefer her either. He was out of his mind with paranoia all through last year with her as an immortal, powerful creature; imagine if she'd been human, even if one with magical powers.

Caroline doesn't need to hear his opinion, because she knows him almost as well as he knows her. And she'd rather avoid the added pressure of having a temperamental pouting Klaus casting her mopy glances while she considers her next move.

She can't talk to Elena or Stefan without breaking their hearts, after everything they were put through. The search for the cure ground the two of them mercilessly. It took everything from them, including each other, and they're only now starting to get their lives back on track. And only because they think they live in a world where the choice is no longer available to them - to Elena, most of all. They were forced to settle for what they had, and in that pool of possibilities they've found peace. As soon as Caroline stirs it up by bringing the possibility back into the mix, it'll be as good as gone forever.

And so, she's left with Elijah.

Elijah, who's the epitome of composure and serenity. Who's intelligent and prudent and perceptive enough to understand Caroline's needs without casting any judgement over it. And yet...

He's not the one whose voice of reason will reach the depths of her mind. And if she claims not to know he would also be mightily disappointed in her _maybe_ wishing to revert back to mortality, she'd be lying. He's been alive long enough that immortality has become a refuge as well as a curse. Elijah finds comfort in it the way Klaus finds reassurance. He may not be as selfish as his brother, but he can be just as controlling, even if he has more subtle ways to pull the strings. In that regard, the two of them aren't that different.

But there’s at least one thing she needs to know.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Have you ever thought about being human?"

Elijah grows quiet, and for a moment she thinks he won't answer, simply employing one of his practiced deflecting techniques. But after a beat, he says, "Many times," and the sheer honesty of it steals her breath away.

"So you _have_ wanted to be mortal again?”

"At times, yes. There have been moments when I have craved the frugality of a mortal life."

"You could've had it. Katherine gave you the cure, didn't she? You could've kept it for yourself."

"It never occurred to me to take the cure."

"Why not?"

"Because even if, at times, I might entertain the idea, I knew then, just as I'd always known, that I would never find peace as a human. To be mortal would mean to walk away from life as I knew it. There's no point in becoming human if not to cut ties with all my supernatural entanglements, otherwise I'd just end up dead faster than I could accomplish anything. And I could never willingly walk away from my family. Every time Niklaus went off the rails, every time Rebekah found herself hurt, every time Kol escaped on a blood bender... I would be consumed with guilt, poised to do something about it that would inevitably fall beyond any human capabilities. It would always lead me back to them."

Elijah sounds as cool and steady as ever, but there's an edge to his voice that cuts straight to Caroline's heart. He doesn't sound bitter or sad, just... Resigned. Conformed. His sense of loyalty and responsibility towards his siblings is unshakable - a love declaration all in itself.

"Aren't you afraid that you may be sacrificing too much? That maybe... Maybe you're not living the life that you truly want, but what you think someone else needs?"

"There is no sacrifice if I need them just as much as they need me," he says softly, like a confession. "May I ask you why the sudden curiosity?"

"No reason," she quips. "I was just thinking about it."

"It's a rather unusual curiosity to spring out of nowhere."

"I was talking to Bonnie about it," she says, a half-lie that she can maintain. "I know where Klaus stands on it. Even Rebekah and Kol. But I never heard your take."

"And where do _you_ stand on it?"

There's not a shade of accusation in the way he turns the question around on her - harmless curiosity for harmless curiosity. It still hits her like a blow, an uneasy feeling roiling in her stomach.

"Honestly? I have no idea."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Mystic Falls looks so different from above.

Caroline feels like an outsider looking in at the tapestry of her own memories. The place where she had her first kiss on Founder's Day when she was 13. The place where her mother used to sit to watch while she ran around the square with Elena and Bonnie when they were three. The stump that has been there for ages but that she somehow managed to trip over and get a sprained ankle when she was 15, missing cheer practice for two weeks and homecoming, which made her insufferable for a whole month.

Everywhere she looks, there's something that sparks a memory. Things she didn't even know she still remembered suddenly resurface as she takes in the sight of her hometown from an angle she’d never tried before. Why had she never tried it before?

_Because it was Damon’s thing._

Anything associated with Damon caused instant revulsion in her - with good reason. Now she kind of regrets having let him get to her so much, to the point he gave a bad name to actual great things he had no business claiming as his.

The clocktower does not belong to Damon Salvatore, let it be known. Caroline is taking that back.

The wind is biting up there, but she doesn't mind. It keeps her awake, grounded. Reminds her that she's still here, flesh and bone and a broken heart, trying to heal.

From up here, it’s like she can look down at a map of her life, of her many phases. Human Caroline, who didn't want anything to do with her magic. Perfectionist, overachiever Caroline, who spent her entire teenage years trying to prove her father wrong, even though he never cared. The Caroline who, out of fear and anger, rediscovered her magic and, with it, a brand of courage she never knew she possessed. The Caroline who was friends with vampires and witches and thought she'd spend the rest of her life with a werewolf, plunging into the no-turning-back supernatural abyss with no regrets. That was the Caroline who thought she’d found her calling. Her place in the world.

And then came the _strong, fierce and full of light_ Caroline who crossed paths with a Big Bad Wolf. Nothing was ever the same again.

She remembers as though it was yesterday, the fiery indignation that licked her up when he said that a small-town life and a small-town boy would never be enough for her. _You'll turn up at my door_ , he said. _Mark my words_. So haughty. So certain. So full of himself. Like he’d seen a million girls like her end up the exact same way: groveling at his feet, begging for his attention.

 _Asshole_.

It was insulting. She was going to go to Whitmore, she was gonna marry Tyler, have his children and _be fucking happy_. That was the life she had planned for herself, the life she’d always wanted, and who the hell was he to make bold assumptions about her like that? He didn’t understand the first thing about being a normal, decent person. He didn’t know _her_.

And yet Klaus' words sounded like a threat to her ears. Or worse, like a _promise_. It stung.

It pains her to admit it, but Klaus has the terrible habit of being an incredibly annoying, smug person who happens to be right about a lot of things. Always one step ahead. It took her a little while, though, to realize that what he could see was not that she was some predictable, been-there-done-that little girl with ambitions as small as her mindset. What he could see was that she _wasn't_ that. Mystic Falls would one day be too small a pond for Caroline's dreams. And freaking Klaus Mikaelson of all people could see all the marks of things she'd refused to admit, right through her compliance and her seemingly unshakable beliefs.

It stirred something inside of her, that this creature made of darkness and mayhem would look into her eyes with such calm, such consideration, and bear no judgement at all. It spiked a kind of fear in her chest, how he could suddenly give voice to a restlessness she'd never been able to name before, a desire for something bigger than herself, for adventure, for a love that would consume her and shake her to her core, a flame that would never stop burning. She was terrified of how everything he said, everything he _offered_ , resonated with her, and of how drawn she felt to the galaxy of possibilities in the complicated shade of blue of his eyes.

The truth was Caroline had never really had a chance to figure out what she wanted until Klaus came along. Until then, she'd always been carried around by the tides of her life, usually commandeered by someone else - her father, Damon, Elena, Matt, Tyler. No one had ever bothered to ask her what _she_ wanted. Which way _she_ would rather go. No one until Klaus.

Back then, Caroline's future was entirely written within the straight-lined streets and well-manicured front lawns of Mystic Falls because it was all she knew. As she sits at the top of the clocktower, she lets her mind reel back to that time. That person. Trying to see through her eyes again. What would the old Caroline think if she could see her now? Would she be proud? Would she be horrified? Would she understand?

Would she want to take the cure?

She stares out at the town center, at the little people walking there, totally oblivious to the unstoppable forces that gamble with their lives on a daily basis - or mostly oblivious, anyway; is there any way to live in Mystic Falls and not believe in things that go bump in the night? She doesn't remember ever being that person, but she must have, once, and she tries to recall if she was happier for it, if they, the normal people, are happier. If ignorance makes for a more wholesome experience, if misery is as unforgiving to them as it is to those in the inner circle. If it makes a difference.

Everything is chaos inside of her, has been so for months now, but high above the ground the world is rock-still, so when she feels a tiny disturbance to her perception, she knows who it is even before she catches a wisp of his scent in the wind. Klaus has a way of disrupting quietness on principle. Everything he does is a statement - the way he talks, the way he walks, the way he sneaks up on you. _I am Klaus Mikaelson_ , he says with his every move, his every breath. She used to find it irritating; now it’s a comfort.

She expected to feel more distressed over having her private meditation interrupted. For some reason, however, she isn’t.

Caroline grins to herself, feet dangling off the ledge. "How did you find me here?"

"Not easily," he concedes, approaching with slow steps.

He stands next to her and waits until she looks up at him with an approval to take a seat beside her, shoulder to shoulder and a considerable fall between them and the ground.

The air around Klaus seems to simmer, an energy that radiates from him and reaches Caroline in waves. Nothing around Klaus ever remains still. His very presence demands a response, and her body is always only too eager to oblige. It’s always been like that, if she’s to be completely honest. Since that night on her 18th birthday. It strikes her, to this day, how someone who's been dead for a thousand years can feel so much bigger than life.

"Who's watching Eve?" she asks.

"Elena Gilbert. I assume she’s on your list of approved sitters."

She arches her eyebrows, unsure whether to be impressed or concerned by the apparent civility of such a thing. "You asked Elena to babysit?"

" _Ask_ is perhaps a rather loose term." Oh, well. She purses her lips, gives him a pointed look, more on principle than any real censure. Klaus merely shrugs. "She showed up wanting to know of your whereabouts and when I said I didn't know where you'd gone off to, she got into an inconvenient mood I do not find at all appealing on her. So I gave her a choice: watch the child while I stepped outside or have fun entertaining feverish dementia from a werewolf bite for the rest of the evening."

"Klaus!" She attempts a protest, but it sounds weak as she tries desperately to bite back on a chortle. She wants to laugh, but he’s being dead serious.

"Don't worry, love. She chose wisely."

"You're not gonna win any hearts around here acting like that."

"How devastating," he deadpans. "May I ask what brought you up here?"

Caroline turns away from him, back to the blinking lights and distant voices of the town square. "Damon used to come up here to brood like an asshole with a diva complex, and I always thought it was so lame. Then I was down there, at the square, and I looked up and... Suddenly I wanted to find out what was so great about this spot. I have to say, I can kind of see the appeal. It's nice to see things from a distance. Gives you perspective. Makes me feel... Removed."

"Is that what you want? To remove yourself?" Klaus' voice is tentative, and the look he gives her under his lashes is all shades of apprehensive.

"I wanted to think without all the pressure. Clear my mind."

"How's that working for you?"

She lifts one shoulder, doesn’t say anything. Truth is she has no idea.

"What's on your mind?" he tries again.

_Everything. Nothing. Too much. Not enough._

"I need answers and I don't have any. My mom always did, and I just… Keep trying to figure out what she would have to say, but I have no idea what to do with myself. What _not_ to do. I'm just... Lost. Losing it."

"Someone you loved very deeply has just passed away. You should lose it. It would be crazy not to,” he speaks with the heavy wisdom of someone who’s experienced that maddening sense of loss first hand.

Caroline turns to him, meets his eyes, so dark under the pale light.

"If this is what it’s supposed to be like, then why does it feel so wrong? Why do I feel so suffocated?"

Something shifts in Klaus' eyes, and when he speaks, he sounds so resigned Caroline almost doesn't recognize him. "Is my presence here an imposition on you, Caroline?"

She blinks. "What?"

"My brother was under the impression that you would find comfort in my company, but if that's not the case -"

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, you don't seem particularly comfortable, do you? Just last week, before the Bennett witch’s return, I thought you were going to tell me to leave. You’ve been off ever since, withdrawn. Then you come up here all on your own, like you want to be left well alone. And now you say you’re feeling suffocated.”

Caroline is quiet for a moment, studying his profile. "Do you want to leave?"

"That's a trick question."

Even though she had been half-expecting this answer for weeks now, Caroline still feels her heart drop. "So you _do_ want to leave."

"It's not that simple, love. If you ask me how much I enjoy Mystic Falls, the answer is not a lot. This city has far exhausted its appeal to me. But if your question is how far from you I'm willing to stay..." he trails off, his gaze cutting back to her. His voice carries none of his imperious confidence, though, winds up like a question.

"I know you never meant to come here," she tells him with ease. The bitterness that used to fill her when she thought about how Klaus had let her walk without even so much as a goodbye, about how he'd gone radio silent for months, is but a distant aftertaste now, the pain dulled after everything. "I really appreciate that you've stayed for as long as you have. I'm sure Eve is very glad, too. But you don't have to."

Klaus' lips press into a tight line, features darkening as he hangs his head low. The air sizzles around him, his whole body tense, and for a second she thinks he's about to explode in a fit of temper. Instead, he lets out a sharp gust of air through grit teeth, and, in a calm but rather restrained tone, says, "I realize I hurt you. And the fact there was intent in the way I did it made everything worse. Had I known the ordeal you would be made to go through, Caroline, I wouldn’t have done it, but alas. Watching you from afar was not enough. Not for me, certainly not for you. But I never wished to add to your pain. I won't make excuses; I was wounded, and I wanted you to feel it, and for that I am sorry. I won't pressure you into taking me back or making room for me in your life once more, and if what you desire right now is not to have to deal with that, then I will abide by your wishes and leave at once. I only ask you to let me see Eve every once in a while. I have missed her terribly."

Klaus looks stricken, weariness carved into his handsome face. He seems so vulnerable just then, so far from his towering, intimidating figure. "Take whatever time you need, Caroline,” he continues. “And when you're ready, if you're ready... I'll be here. Waiting. However long it takes."

Something inside of her cracks wide open, a rush of warmth flooding in that is almost too much to bear. The knot of fear in her stomach mollifies, dissolving into a flutter, her heart doing a somersault into her throat.

When Caroline looks into Klaus' midnight eyes, she sees the same softness, the same earnestness, the same love she saw on the night of the Crescent ritual, when he professed his love and gave her the necklace she still wears every single day. That was when Caroline knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she belonged with him, body and soul. Klaus was _the one_.

In Klaus' immortal eyes is the sum of all the things that Caroline’s still too young and too human mind cannot grasp - infinity, a love that knows no bounds, a fire that burns hotter than the sun, a desire that is so consuming it is unquenchable, demanding nothing but complete surrender. None of these things can be translated into words, but when she's with him, with butterflies set loose in her stomach and the fluttering in her chest... It all suddenly makes sense.

Their love is as winding as it is great, as complicated as it is deep, it bleeds as much as it bites. But it brings her clarity like nothing else. Being with Klaus is an endless sea of possibilities, a promise of something far greater than anything the old Caroline, huffing in outrage at him at the 1920s decade dance, could’ve ever imagined.

She takes his hand, twining their fingers together. "I don't want you to leave," she says, not quite able to hide the crack in her voice. "I regret... God, so many things. I'm drowning in regret right now. But you are not one of those things, Klaus. I will never be better off without you. But... I'm scared. There's so much I don't know anymore. And I'm terrified of what happens if you leave. _When_ you leave. So, naturally, I should just make you stay, right? Except... I need to know that you _want_ to be here, that I'm not making you miserable, because if I can't lean on you, then I need to know that now. I just need to be prepared, otherwise… Otherwise, I don’t think I can take it."

He turns to her with embers in his eyes, shards of gold peeking through dark blue. "Why do you think I spent three months roaming these woods, Caroline? I can feel a vital part of me waning away when you're not there. I thought it was the memory of you all around me that was so jarring. I thought you were in everything I own, everything I do, but then I realized... It wasn't the outside world that felt wrong. You are _in_ me. In my veins, in my lungs, in my thoughts, in every nerve ending on my body. And the only way this emptiness can ever be made right is when you're near me. By your side is the only place I have ever found peace." Klaus lifts a hand to her face, his warm fingers grazing the cool skin of her cheeks. Caroline sucks the air in slowly, her heart thundering away behind her ribcage. "I am, as the poets say, ever yours."

Caroline's mouth draws into a smile, one that ignites something she thinks might be happiness, deep in her chest. A little happiness. Klaus must be able to see it, too, because his own lips curl into a smile that's wide and dimpled and dazzling in its beauty and honesty. He traces her bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, as though memorizing the shape of that curve, of that happiness, and then he kisses her.

It's just a gentle press of lips at first, an uncharacteristically chaste gesture on his part. He pulls back just a smidge, testing the waters, asking for permission, and then it’s Caroline's turn to dive back in.

For the first time in weeks, Caroline feels her mind completely empty of anything that isn't the softness of Klaus' lips, or the heat of his mouth, the hard plains of his chest under her palm, the heart that pounds against his sternum - _for her_ , she tells herself, letting it surge against all the doubt that’s plagued her over the last so many weeks. It beats for her.

Klaus' kisses are hard and possessive, worshiping and revering at the same time he claims. Not for the first time, she thinks he wastes way too much time with huffing and puffing when he could easily bring an empire to its knees with the way his tongue dances. All that heat bleeding off of him and seeping into her skin doesn’t feel hungry, but rather soothing, calming, like having her toes in the sand.

In the middle of all that reassurance, Caroline does what she'd hesitated to do for so long: she gives in. All the monumental effort she put into mourning on her own, healing on her own, finding her footing all by herself, hardening her exterior for the moment when she wouldn’t have anyone there anymore - she lets it all go, and just leans on him, letting the fluid motion take her as she folds into his arms.

It's terrifying, giving up control to someone else, putting so much into the hands of another person. She feels brittle and vulnerable and this kind of blind trust doesn't come easily. But even with all of Klaus' razored edges, all of the twists and turns of their relationship, Caroline feels safe with him.

When they break the kiss, ages later, Klaus buries his nose into her hair, pressing his lips there. He inhales deeply, exhaling slowly, as though steadying himself, and then he breathes her name into her hair. " _Caroline_ ," he says, his voice a low rumble in his throat, and it makes her shiver, the right kind of goose bump chasing through every inch of her skin.

She's ready to lift her face and kiss him again and start making up for all the lost time, but she catches sight of something down on the square and can't help the chuckle that escapes her.

Another memory flares into life. Some four years ago, Klaus, pure mischief and boyish charm, sat down on that bench and dared her to take a chance on him. Caroline had a mission that night, but that was not why she took the challenge. Her plans didn't involve sitting down and actually _talking_ to him. By the time Kol got stabbed, she was meant to be far away from the destructive reach of Klaus' wrath. It was the way he looked at her that made her bite her tongue and stay when she should be running.

She'd wanted to laugh as Klaus recited the mother of all corny things, but it struck her that it hadn't been just some lame pick up line in desperate need of an update. When he said he wanted to talk about her, about her _hopes and dreams and everything she wanted in life_ , he'd actually meant it. In the space of a second, Caroline combed her memories after a single time when a guy had truly wanted to get to know her even before they'd been together. In her lively but admittedly brief experience until then, it was mostly make-out and cop a feel first, ask later. Except _later_ sometimes never came. No one had ever looked up at her with a sparkle in their eyes, trying to figure her out, to learn what made her tick. To most people, she was kiddie pool Caroline. They all assumed they had her all mapped out right off the bat. What was there to know about a blonde cheerleader? Just another stereotype. Another girl without a thought of her own.

It’s what Stefan thought when he turned her down - too needy to be worthy of a second glance. It’s what Damon thought when he abused her - too dull to be worthy of compassion. It’s what Matt thought when he dumped her - too imperfect to be forgiven for her sins. It’s what Tyler thought before they started dating - too spoiled to be taken seriously. But not Klaus. He came close to her once, looked into her eyes as she lay dying in her bed, and decided there was something worth getting to know there. More than that: something he _desperately_ wanted to know.

In the space of a heartbeat, he went from ridiculous to strangely endearing, and Caroline just blanked out. Of all the living souls on earth, the first guy to show an interest in the inner workings of her mind just happened to be the devil himself.

It just... Floored her. She couldn't just snipe at him, swivel around and shake her hips as she walked away, leaving him aching for all the things he would never have. When he said _Come on, take a chance. Get to know me. I dare you_ , flashing her that dangerous, dimpled smile that he flaunted about like a weapon, it was all she could do not to fold.

"What?" he murmurs, his face still hovering close to hers, warm breath against the biting wind.

“I was just thinking that I gave myself too much credit when I said I was too smart to be seduced by you.”

Klaus’ soft laugh rumbles as his mouth hovers around the line of her jaw. “In your defense, you did put up a good fight.”

“And I still lost.”

“Do you regret it?” His tone is light, but she can hear the underlying doubt.

Caroline puts a hand under his chin, tilts his face to meet her gaze again. “No,” she says. “I don’t regret anything.”

Klaus grins, those dark, infinite eyes glinting with smug satisfaction. “I guess that means I win.”

Caroline mashes her lips against his once more, soft but full of feeling. “It means…” she breathes out, barely a rasp. “I love you.”

Klaus touches his mouth to the spot right under her ear, a long, tender kiss. She feels his lips curling into a full-on smile against her skin, and then he whispers, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Damon cuts a lonesome figure staring into the fireplace, looking small in the Salvatores' opulent and grandiose living room. The air is stuffy and stained with the scent of bourbon and misery.

Caroline remembers being terrified of Damon. He was a constant presence in her nightmares for months, all menace and teeth and bloodshot eyes. She would wake up screaming, clutching her neck or her shoulder, feeling for the puncture wounds that took weeks to disappear. Damon never healed her. She thinks he liked marking his victims, looking at them covering themselves and knowing it was because of him. Like every other pathetic loser with a measure of power, he basks in having control, any kind of control, over creatures weaker than him. He did the same thing to that reporter, Andie. She wasn't as lucky as Caroline, didn't have magic in her just waiting for a spark to come alive. The idiot lost her life mistaking fear and helplessness for love. Caroline didn’t pity her then, but she knows better now. It wasn’t Andie’s fault, just like it wasn’t hers.

Now, she looks at Damon and wonders where all that greatness went. Or if maybe there was never anything great about him to begin with. He’s handsome, sure, in an objective, cold way. But his beauty melts in his annoying voice, the smug curve of his lips, the arrogance that he cannot back up. It's ridiculous to think back on how much fear Damon used to instill. It would be laughable if it hadn't almost destroyed her.

Caroline couldn't feel further away from the girl she used to be. And maybe because of that, because she feels like she has a debt to pay, something she owes the girl whose life that jerk nearly tore apart just for the kicks, Caroline vamps over to Damon and, before he's even noticed her there, too drunk or too distracted, she closes her hand around his neck and throws him to the ground like he’s nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

Damon grunts loudly, eyes bulging as the impact knocks the wind out of him.

"Blond-" he tries to speak, but Caroline cuts him off by sinking the heel of her boot into the hollow of his throat. He's lucky she's not wearing stilettos.

Damon gasps loudly, clawing uselessly at her legs, his icy blue eyes lost in confusion.

"You're not so strong now, are you?" she asks, steel gaze sharp as a knife. "Maybe you never were. Maybe you just like taking on people who are weaker than you, so that you can feel powerful." She increases the pressure and Damon's face begins to turn purple. "I could crush you under my boots now. Just thought you should know that."

She steps away, standing back while he gathers his bearings. Damon rolls onto his stomach, taking gulping breaths before slowly picking himself up.

"Somebody has held a long grudge," he grits out. "Aren't you over that yet?"

"Oh, I am," she says pleasantly. "I just hate you."

Damon snorts, turning back to her with a crooked little smirk. "Sorry to inform you, Barbie, but you've lost bragging rights over my past evil doings when you got in the sack with the devil."

"Maybe. But that doesn't mean I'll ever forgive you for what you did to me. And don't compare yourself to Klaus, Damon. You're nothing next to him. You only pretend to have strength, with this fake swagger you think makes you so oh-so-great. Klaus _is_ strong. He wears a crown, he rules over cities, takes down armies and monsters twice his size. You are just a little man who gets off on bullying his way through small towns and abusing teenage girls for no other reason than because you can."

Damon's smirk grows dangerous. "And now that you have him at your beck and call you finally want revenge?"

"If I wanted revenge, Damon, you would get revenge. I don't need Klaus for that," she says, punctuating her phrase with a sweet smile. "Although I have to admit that it would be fun to watch him wipe the floor with your face from here to Louisiana."

Damon rolls his eyes into his head. "Anybody tell you you're starting to sound like him?"

"Coming from you, I take that as a compliment."

"Right," he grumbles, walking over to the nearest bar cart and pouring himself a glass of bourbon. "If you came here just to unload your frustrations on me, you can show yourself out. I have some brooding I need to do and I’d like to be on my own for it."

"I didn't, actually. The opportunity just felt too good to pass."

Caroline hesitates for a second, considering for the millionth time what she's about to do. Whatever her thoughts on Damon, she can at least believe that he really does look out for Elena. His methods might be as misguided as he is himself, but he cares about her. Loves her. Not that that would ever make her trust him, but if Bonnie can... Then maybe Caroline can, too. At least with this. With Elena’s safety and happiness.

"I have something for you," she decides at last, fishing the silver box that had been consuming her for days out of her bag as she approaches Damon.

He narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, gaze cutting from her face to the box and back. "What's that? Werewolf poison you milked out of your baby daddy?

"Just shut up and take it."

Damon knocks back the rest of his drink, puts down the glass and reluctantly accepts the _gift_. His brow creases in question when he sets eyes on the little vial inside, before smoothing into sheer surprise, those ice-cold eyes of his snapping up at her with a flash. "That's not what I think it is, is it?"

"Bonnie found it in 1994. She wanted to give it to you, but when she heard of my _special_ circumstances, she thought I'd want it more."

"The cure for vampirism," he says, bit pitch low and somber.

"She said you wanted to get it, had mapped out a route and everything," Caroline continues. "I take it you didn't want it for yourself."

Damon's jaw clenches, his expression hardening all of a sudden. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because I decided I don't want it. And because I know you wanted it for Elena. Whatever I may think of you, I know it's a good thing you wanted to do for her. She should have it, and it should come from you."

He purses his lips like he's tasting something awry in his mouth, a shadow crossing his features. "What if I don't want it for her now?"

Caroline considered that possibility. The two of them have finally seemed to settle down. Elena didn't recover her memories, but she somehow fell in love with him again, which is just beyond comprehension, but whatever. Caroline’s past rolling her eyes at that. But the point remains that Damon wanted to give her the cure because she was miserable and, like everyone, he thought Elena wouldn’t last long as a vampire, _not_ because he necessarily wanted her to be mortal. Except now she’s fine.

And yet, looking at Damon now, in a rare unguarded moment on his part, she knows he's thinking the same thing she is: if he truly cares about Elena, he'll have to give her the cure. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually. It's that agony she sees in his eyes, the fear that he won't be able to live with himself if he doesn't allow Elena to choose on her own whether or not she wants to stay a vampire, that makes her certain she’s done the right thing.

"That's none of my business," she declares. "You can give it to her or not. I'm leaving this up to you."

The look Damon gives her then is almost desperate. "Why would you trust me with this?"

"Because you're awful, Damon, but I know you love her. That has to count for something."

Caroline goes back to her house feeling a million pounds lighter. She thought she'd feel worse about this, giving the cure away, that there would be a flicker of anxiety in her stomach, the fear of having made the wrong choice. Instead, she has relief flooding her veins like a balm.

Once her mind cleared, past the fog of grief and wanting to do right by other people's expectations, she was able to understand that there is no such thing as certainty. Life is not made of absolutes, especially not theirs. Of course there will be moments when she'll wish she could be human, when she'll wonder where the tidal waves of mortality would’ve taken her. But that's not to say she'll be unhappy, that mortality will ever be the thing that will give meaning to her existence. She's not Elena.

The truth is, her mother aside, Caroline has everything she could possibly want right now. She is strong and powerful enough to beat the crap out of assholes like Damon and protect her family. She has a beautiful daughter. She has friends she cares so much for and an adopted family who means the world to her. She has someone who loves her wholeheartedly, and whom she loves like crazy.

With Klaus, eternity is not so daunting, after all.

Caroline feels energized like she hasn't in a long time when she pulls up in the driveway, might even have a little skip in her step. If she's maybe looking forward to kissing her baby good night and then dragging Klaus into the bedroom to make good use of that _energy_ , can anyone really blame her?

She stops by the mailbox, realizing she hadn't touched it in over a week. The thing is flooding with correspondence - credit card bills, condolences postcards she won't even look at and -

Caroline goes very still, her heart contracting painfully. For a second, the whole world fades to black. Everything but the envelope in her hands, with her name written in a beautiful cursive she would recognize anywhere, after so many years trying to copy it.

She is brought back to reality as though by a punch to her stomach, stealing all her breath away. In a blur, Caroline goes inside the house, dropping everything on the sideboard near the door and flying up the stairs, shutting herself in her bedroom. Her heart is drumming a mad rhythm in her ribcage, and Caroline has to lean back against the door, close her eyes against the sudden dizziness, afraid her knees might give out.

Her fingers are shaking when she holds up the envelope to inspect it again. It was sent one day after her mother died. Must've been sitting in the mail box for days now.

Liz wrote her a letter and had it put in the mail so Caroline would only read it after she was gone. It sinks inside of her like an anchor that her mother must've known she didn't have much time left, that she must've felt it wouldn't be long. She knew.

She feels the prickle of hot tears behind her lids, the by now familiar emptiness inflating inside her chest like a balloon with a renewed bite after going dormant for a couple of days. The envelope burns in her hands, her mind racing with the myriad of possibilities of what she might find inside, of what her mother might’ve wanted to tell her.

But she can't get herself to open it.

Caroline can feel it, the energy that oozes from that piece of paper, a current that runs from her fingertips straight to her heart. Something will happen when she reads that letter. Something big. Maybe she will change. Maybe the whole world will. And she doesn't think she's ready, not right now, when everything is still so tender and raw, when the very air around her feels bruised. Just as she’s finally taking slow steps back into the light.

As much as she wants to… As desperate as she is to tear through that envelope… She can't read this letter. Not yet.

Slowly, she pulls away from the door and walks to her dresser, laying the letter at the bottom of the top drawer, under a pile of clothes, like one who handles a treasure. She stares at it for a long moment, eyes following the lines and curves of Liz's flawless handwriting, touches two fingers to her lips and then to the envelope. "I'll come back for you, mom. I just need some time," she whispers. "I promise."

Caroline shuts the drawer, wipes away her tears and takes a steadying breath, recomposing herself.

A week ago, she would've crawled under the covers and cried herself into oblivion. Now, all she wants to do is wrap her arms around Klaus and Eve and let the two of them be the things that recenter her once more. It might not be much, but she thinks it's progress. It's a start.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- As always, I have songs to go with this chapter! For the scene between Klaus and Elijah at the beginning, **[Terrible Love, by The National](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BSNHSXrOVNnRcm85D4YIt?si=jZ0eV_B3Tle4c_SRQA7jyA)** (my favorite song of 2020 according to Spotify). And for the clock tower scene, **[I Will Love You by Gin Wigmore](https://open.spotify.com/track/5688SjlKi65EqMvmL7WcST?si=4e4mOZ36Re-43Bmas7vh-Q)**.
> 
> \- I now have a schedule! God, I can't there are only three more chapters to go. 😭 I'm getting emotional about the end of this. :( Everything going according to plan, chapter 31 will be posted on the week of March 25th (my bday!).
> 
> \- **I really hope you folks enjoyed this chapter! 😭❤️ It's probably somewhat different from the entire rest of the story since I didn't borrow from the show, so I hope I did a fine job! So many important things happen here. KC getting their shit together, Klaus and Elijah having an important convo that had been a long time coming imo, Bonnie ❤️, the cure (!) and Damon! I am SO looking forward to seeing your thoughts on all of that! Hope you guys enjoyed the cure twist and Caroline's resolution. So pls don't hesitate to drop me a note! :)**
> 
> \- I just wanted to mention that this chapter was so important for me writing this fic. I love Caroline and my whole point when I started writing this universe was to make her the special snow flake at the heart of everything and give her the protagonism I felt she deserved and never had. She's come such a long way from the beginning of TW1 (and it's almost over now 😭), but this MF arc is where things become truly about _her_ , more so than ever before. Canon managed to take away her spotlight while her own mother was dying, shifting the focus to Stefan and Damon. Caroline never really got to feel or grieve her loss, she was always crying over Stefan. And then, after that whole emotionless mess (I know some people really love that part, but I particularly hated it), when it's time for us to see Caroline processing everything and her friends (and freaking Stefan!) offering her the support she needed to heal, she simply _disappears from the show_. The most important part for her as a character, and it happens off-camera. Caroline doesn't appear for two or three episodes, and it's said she's _recovering_. It's so effed up and quite disappointing. 
> 
> This chapter is meant to be the part of the story the show didn't give us. Caroline healing, pondering over her life, at herself, making some important choices, getting the attention and the comfort she deserved from the people who love her (*cough* _not Stefan_ *cough*). TVD S6 is happening elsewhere, but we're just looking at Caroline instead. So I just really hope you guys have enjoyed it and felt that it offered something _more_.
> 
> ANYWAY! 😂 Talking a lot! But I really have _lots of feelings_ about this particular part of the show. Next chapter (when, btw, Caroline was STILL absent!) we get back into TVD S6's regular plot for the final three chapters. :) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ❤️


	29. S02E29 I'd Leave My Happy Home For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies! ✨ I come bearing updates! :) Hope you guys are not tired of me yet!
> 
> One tiny warning: this chapter is **NSFW**! 😱 I am so nervous right now, because, as you know, it's out of my comfort zone. I hope you guys enjoy it! :) But if this is something you're not comfortable with, skip the final part. 😊
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone reading and commenting! 💖 You guys are awesome sauce! Enjoy the chapter! :)

* * *

Caroline likes to brag about being the best party planner anyone could ever hope to meet. Everything she touches turns to gold. She's just that good, and she wears her talent like a badge of honor. Normally, that would be an indisputable truth. This time, however, she kind of has to hand the crown over to Elena. She pushed hard for the stripper and it was _so_ worth it.

Caroline blames her current state of mind for that dip in form. She couldn't be any further away from the bachelorette party zone. She was reluctant to even join Jo's celebrations, didn't want to sour the mood by being the recently motherless person with a scowl across her face, but Elena and Bonnie insisted.

When they asked her for ideas, her suggestion was that they should hit a spa for a pleasant and nondescript day of foot massages and Mai Tais. This might be the only time ever when Caroline will admit that she's glad she got outvoted. Jo's face when the police officer approaches her at the hospital and asks her for somewhere private to talk about _her fiancé_ is second only to her face when he rips off his uniform and starts giving her a lap dance.

The man’s butt cheeks are out of this world, defying every law of physics. Worth every dollar they can fit into the thin line of his very revealing thong, if you ask her.

"I've always wanted to see that in person!" Bonnie half-squeals, half-laughs as they barge into the room blasting music.

"Isn't it great?!" Elena joins her, shaking to the rhythm of a dance(r) remix of _I'm Too Sexy_ while a horrified Jo, red as a tomato, tries to not stare directly at the stripper’s bulging _parts_ as he shakes into her face.

Dancing is maybe going a bit too far for Caroline, though. She feels a little like she's forgotten how to move her body accordingly, her muscles too tight for anything more than a shy bounce and clappy hands. But she's laughing her ass off, and the feeling is _amazing_. Suddenly, she's very grateful for having two annoyingly persistent and hard-to-say-no-to friends who practically threw her into a dress and dragged her out of the house.

"Do you think that was all his?" Bonnie muses as she takes a generous bite out of a hamburger, later. The second stage of their bachelorette party involves a diner and all kinds of junk food they could ever eat. "That couldn't have been all his."

"Why not? He makes a living out of thrusting his hips into people’s faces," Caroline argues. "I think being well-hung is kind of a requirement." She doesn’t add that they could’ve easily found out by paying an extra 50 bucks for the man to remove the last tiny piece of clothing covering his modesty, which they would’ve happily obliged - just, you know, for scientific reasons - if Jo didn’t look like she was about to have a heart attack as it was. 

"I think I don't want to think of that man's genitalia," Jo notes, biting on her own burger.

"You should," Elena replies, eating her fries. "It might be the last time you get that up close and personal with another man's genitalia. From now on, it's Ric Jr. until death do you part."

"You know what?" Jo says. "It's a good deal. Trust me."

Bonnie cracks up laughing while Caroline snorts, nearly spilling soda through her nose.

“He was our teacher, Jo,” Caroline whines. “Please, have some decorum.”

“It was Elena who brought it up,” she counters.

“The things we can’t take back shall haunt us forever,” her friend muses darkly.

Jo chuckles, shakes her head. "Can I just say - a diner all to ourselves? Actual heaven," she marvels, making an appreciative sound in the back of her throat.

"I suggested a spa day," Caroline shrugs.

"And I suggested that, instead of getting many-paddies and soothing massages, we should just stuff our faces," Elena offers.

"And it kind of sounded like a good idea, to be honest," Caroline concedes.

"You're geniuses," Jo speaks around a mouthful.

"Except... Aren't you a vegetarian?"

"Bonnie," Elena admonishes.

"No, it's fine," Jo says, swallowing another piece of juicy burger. "The baby is not okay with the no-meat thing. Besides, it's my party and I'll eat what I want to eat."

"When I was pregnant, I had this weird craving for cheese and blackberry jam. I don't even like blackberries that much. It's my least favorite berry, but suddenly it was the only thing on my mind," Caroline says, reeling back to the early days of her pregnancy. Amid all the fear and the general annoyance at everything and Klaus in particular, the fact he picked up on her weird craving and filled the fridge with all kinds of cheese and all manner of berry jam kind of warmed her heart. The power of comfort food during pregnancy cannot be underestimated.

"Know what I crave all the time?" Jo sips from her milk shake. "Vodka."

"Ugh, that is the _worst_ part!" Caroline agrees.

"It's like my hormones are trying to choke me and I can't even have a little alcohol to loosen up."

She snorts. "Try getting knocked up by a Mikaelson and then moving in with the family for the whole duration of the pregnancy. Hormones got _nothing_ on them."

"Yeah, I think we'll pass on that, Care," Elena says, leaning over the table to steal her fries after she's done with her own. "Can we talk about something else? The non-impregnated people in the room are kind of left out."

"Sure," Jo consents. "Let's talk about Ric. Do I want to know what he's doing?"

"Probably at the movies," Bonnie offers.

"Yeah, or a mini golf," Elena adds.

"Round of poker with the boys. Cigars, brandy, football..." The three friends exchange a look and snigger.

“They have strippers, don’t they? I just know it.” Jo lets out a frustrated puff of air. "I need more ketchup," she declares somberly before walking off to find it.

As soon as Jo's up, Bonnie turns her full attention to Elena. "So. Are we gonna talk about it?"

Elena stops with a handful of stolen fries halfway to her mouth. "Talk about what?"

"You're gonna make us pry it out of you? I know about the cure, Elena."

Elena's face drops. "W-what?" she stammers.

Caroline frowns at Bonnie. "How did _you_ know?"

Elena then turns to her, eyes bulging out in a cartoonish way. "You know too?!"

"I gave Damon the cure."

"What?!"

"Bonnie gave it to me, and I gave it to Damon," Caroline explains. "So, he gave it to you already? That surpassed all my expectations. I thought he'd sit on it for years."

Elena shakes her head, confused. "Hold on a second. How do you all know that he gave me the cure?"

“I didn’t, I just knew he had it,” Caroline says, turning to Bonnie. “How did _you_ know?”

"Damon called me last night and told me everything," Bonnie says, and then fixes Elena with a concerned look. "Including his insane plan to take it with you."

Then it's Caroline's turn to gape. "What?!" It's hard to tell which part of the revelation shocks her the most: that Damon Salvatore would want to take the cure, or that he actually called Bonnie to have a heart-to-heart.

"Damon called you?" Elena asks, brows bunched together, obviously also weirded out by the latter.

"He needed someone to talk to after you walked out without telling him what you were thinking.”

Elena looks down at her empty plate. "That's not exactly how it happened."

"And I quote, She stared at me like I was an alien and teleported out of the room," Bonnie punctuates her sentence with a cocked eyebrow, demanding an explanation from Elena.

"Ok, stop, stop, stop," Caroline cuts in, waving her hands in front of her. "Go back. Damon wants to take the cure?"

Bonnie shrugs. "Apparently."

Elena sighs. "Damon Salvatore stands in front of you and tells you he wants to become human again and be the father of your children. Wouldn't you freak out?"

"Well, I am freaking out right now and it’s not _my_ children he wants to have," Caroline quips. "That's kinda hard to believe."

"I know. I just... Needed some time to process. I mean, 24 hours ago, I didn't even think it was possible to become human again."

"But you've always wanted to take the cure," Bonnie argues.

"Yeah. Well, I did. But maybe I don't anymore. There are many variables to think about and it's all very complicated at the moment. So. You gave the cure to Caroline first?" Elena asks, turning the focus of the conversation back to Bonnie.

"I got it for Damon, and I knew he wanted to give it to you, but I thought she might need it more. You know, after... Everything."

Bonnie still can't really look Caroline in the eye when she mentions the whole dying after giving birth situation. Most people can't. It's too horrifying a scenario for them to even imagine, and knowing that it happened to Caroline while they were all blissfully unaware of her real whereabouts makes them feel all shades of guilty.

Elena turns to her. "You really didn't want to take it?" she asks. Caroline’s gotta give it to her friend; even though the cure was always meant for her, she holds no grudge whatsoever that Bonnie decided to give it to Caroline first. There’s a lot that can be said about Elena, but not about her heart. It’s always in the right place. Well, except when she’s falling for Damon.

Caroline shakes her head once. "Nope."

"But you told me you missed being a witch."

"I do. But I also don't completely hate being a vampire. It was tough in the beginning, but I kind of eased into it, and with the whole werewolf juju, I feel more... Empowered. The physical strength suits me well,” she punctuates it with a sweet smile.

Elena then tilts her head, pursing her lips in a doubtful way. "Is that really why?"

"Yes, well - my mother just died,” she concedes. “I don't want Eve to see me go before she's 25."

"By the time she's 25, she's gonna look older than you."

"And that's a bridge we'll cross when we get there. As a vampire, I can protect her. I can heal her, if I have to."

"So it has nothing to do with Klaus?" Bonnie cuts in.

"He would _never_ take the cure," Elena remarks, and then blinks at Caroline. "Would he?"

Caroline munches on her fries thoughtfully. "Klaus is very unabashedly proud of being a hybrid, so no. He wouldn't take the cure. But he's also not the reason I decided I didn't want it, although, you know... Of course he had some influence."

Both Bonnie and Elena look ready to shoot something back at her and keep the argument going. Luckily, before they get a chance, Jo rejoins them and whatever they were going to say dies in their mouths.

Jo notices their odd quietness, her shoulders sagging with dejection. "You guys are not full yet, are you? Cause I wanna order more."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus' face creases into a disdainful grimace as he tries the bourbon he took from a waiter's tray. To say it’s awful would be an understatement. He wouldn't even qualify it as bourbon; it tastes like he imagines a drunk man's piss would. Utterly disgusting. And here he thought the one redeeming quality about the Salvatores was their taste in spirits. For all their flare and pomp, they're rather cheap hosts.

Klaus is of the opinion that a soiree tells you enough about its host as almost anything else will. The poor sod who can't even entertain and charm their guests will hardly ever turn out to be an interesting figure. It's basic comprehension.

Mikaelsons are renowned for their lavish celebrations. New Orleans comes alive with a different spark whenever there’s a bash at the compound. It’s been like that for hundreds of years, minus a few. Klaus is keen on having people slapping themselves for an invite to his parties. Even that abhorrent _ceremony_ he threw for the Crescents was more thrilling and tasteful than this atrocity he just walked in.

He remembers bachelor parties being much more alluring than this back in the old days.

Uninspiring women fill every corner of the house with their shrill conversations, not one of them even remotely worthy of a second look. Some, he's certain, are well on the way to removing their tops and climbing on the furniture, which might at least give him something to look at in this whole mediocre affair, but only just. What a bore. If you want a proper strip, then at least make it suggestive and enticing. Don't just invite drunk women to do the job of a professional. Strip shows are an art. If anyone had bothered asking for his opinion, he would've offered the contacts of two or three burlesque dancers whose names still come to mind easily, so memorable their spectacles were. They have even incorporated blood-sharing to their numbers, although he doubts that prude Alaric Saltzman would enjoy the sight of beautiful women in very little garments drinking from each other's necks. For a decent extra, the groom could even have a full private night with the girls. It's worth every penny. Not that that boorish of a man would ever know how to appreciate it.

The cheap alcohol the Salvatores have put out kind of suits the groom and their guests, he supposes. It's like they went to a sorority house to hand over invitations; quite depressing. They'd assemble finer company at Rousseau's on any given night.

It idly occurs to Klaus, as his eyes roam over the crowded living space, that this is probably what Elijah's personal hell would look like. His brother's skin would erupt with rashes from getting stranded in a place like this. He almost feels like snapping a picture with his phone and sending it to him. After this ordeal, the least Elijah could do is consider his sins atoned for and issue a proper pardon. It's his fault Klaus was left with no choice but to attend garish events such as this one, after all.

He makes his way through the horde searching for a certain familiar face. He spotted Alaric and Damon a while back, made sure to stay out of their sight to avoid the nuisance, but the one Salvatore who’s not entirely detestable is nowhere to be found.

"Hi," says a slurred female voice, a hand posing on his forearm. He turns to see a woman that can't be much older than twenty, long auburn hair and dark eyes, batting her eyelids at him. Obviously way past inebriation, by the way she sways on her feet. "Wanna get me a drink?"

Klaus flashes her a smile. "Looks like you’ve had enough of them already, sweetheart. Another one and you'll be spending the night with your head in one of those Ming dynasty vases. They’re worth more than your life."

She chuckles, thinking that he’s lying. He’s not. "You're funny."

"Yes, so I've heard. Why don't you go get some air?"

"I think I'd rather talk to you." She takes a step forward, her hand going up to his shoulder. The way she holds on to him with more intent than an attempt at flirt would require makes him think she's really using him for balance.

The girl has a lovely face, Klaus realizes, despite her slightly glazed over look. Ordinarily, she would make for a fantastic snack. Easy, pliant and so far gone he would probably not even have to compel her. He's just... Suddenly not that enticed by the idea. Not anymore.

Klaus removes her hand from his arm. She makes a face at him, nearly tumbling down. "Get some water, love," he says, catching her eyes. "And then go home. Save yourself from this pitiful imitation of a party."

In a second, the girl has turned her back to him, disappearing in the crowded room on a mission to hydrate herself.

He must truly be getting old, he thinks, if he just sent a perfectly nice dinner to sober up and go home instead of taking advantage of that for a quick bite. He blames Caroline. Pliable women have simply lost their sparkle.

He decides to go search the rest of the boarding house for something more interesting to distract himself with, going up the stairs.

He finds Stefan scribbling rapidly on what looks to be a journal. Ah, yes... Klaus remembers that. Old habits die hard, it seems. He doesn't know whether to pity the man or compliment him for staying away from the party downstairs. Nevertheless, Stefan once more confirms why he doesn’t rank as low as his brother on Klaus' scale, if he's also not at all seduced by the lousy affair on the ground floor. It was probably all Damon’s idea.

"That's adorable," he utters from the door, leaning sideways against the threshold. Stefan puts down his journal and snaps around at Klaus. "Dear diary, today my brother has thrown a pathetic excuse for a party and I cannot decide how to go about murdering him for having such bad taste. How is it possible that we are related?"

Stefan gives him an unimpressed look. "What are you doing in my room, Klaus?"

"Searching for - ah, yes. There it is." Klaus spots the bar cart on the corner and walks up to it, not at all bothering with invitations. "Did you know Damon is serving piss to your guests? You might want to do something about that. It's your name being dragged through the mud as well." He pours himself a glass and savors it, making a pleased sound in his throat. "Now, _this_ is what I call a drink." He turns around to find a look verging on disbelief on Stefan's rather stoic face. "What? That bachelor party leaves much to be desired, I have to find something else to entertain myself with."

"Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you are not supposed to be here -”

“I have Caroline’s trusted sitter watching my daughter.”

“Because you weren’t invited."

Klaus purses his lips, unfazed. Caroline was very clear when she said Ric did _not_ wish to see his face, not at the wedding and not at the bachelor party either. Too bad for him Klaus gives very little importance to what he wants. He was far too dissatisfied with Caroline leaving him to attend a bash of her own to sit at home and wait like a housewife. So he did the only possible reasonable thing: offered double to the lovely Natalie for the last-minute job and went out to investigate what was so special about Alaric's bash after all. The answer, as he suspected, is: nothing.

"Clearly, which I’ll argue has been a dreadful mistake. If I'd been aware of it sooner, I might've offered some ideas. Mikaelson bashes are world famous. This, on the other hand, is a disgrace. I feel sad for the man whose last foray into the land of unbridled pleasures is _this_ , even if that man happens to be that wanker, Alaric Saltzman. I would've been better served staying at home watching cartoons with a toddler."

Stefan's lips turn up into a not-quite-smile. "Caroline is at Jo's bachelorette party, isn't she?"

"She refused to tell me where that was," Klaus admits grumpily. "You wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

Stefan leans back against his chair, now thoroughly amused. "Afraid she's having fun with strippers?"

Suddenly, Klaus can't remember why he thought Stefan wasn't that bad to begin with. "Is it that kind of party?"

"Aren’t all bachelorette parties like that?"

Klaus scoffs derisively. "Strippers. How so very unimaginative." He shakes his head, deciding to change the subject before he finds himself scouring Mystic Falls in search of Caroline. "I got a whiff that you had an impromptu family reunion."

Stefan's smile drops as he turns away from Klaus. "Sure. Amusing you with my familial drama is my idea of a fun night."

"I thought I might be able to offer some expertise. I wrote the book on psychotic mothers and how to get rid of them." He refills his glass and pours Stefan a second one, walking over to him and sliding it towards the other man. "Humor me, will you, old mate?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elena thinks that playing with the jukebox and pretending to be in doubt about which song to choose will help block herself out of the conversation, but Jo is _very_ interested in hearing all about the latest drama in the Gilbert-Salvatore saga. She's obviously new.

"So, basically, Damon did the vampire version of a marriage proposal and you just... walked away?" the doctor asks, sipping from her milk shake. It's her third one tonight.

Elena sighs impatiently. She's almost reaching that stage where nice Elena ends and snippy Elena begins. The threshold there is remarkably large, so that’s saying something. "I said I would think about it," she blurts out. "Why are we still talking about me? You wanna talk about something really interesting, talk about Caroline and her evil overlord baby daddy."

"Hey!" Caroline protests. "Don't turn this on me. I'm not the subject being analyzed here. My situation is very much resolved. Yours, on the other hand, is all up in the air. Besides, it's Jo's party. We should be talking about her."

"Trust me, I would much rather talk about any of that than the fact that I have yet to find a non-hideous wedding gown. Or the fact that I can't ask my sister to be my maid of honor because she won't answer my phone calls. Or the fact that I cannot stop eating. Literally. Like, ever." She puts down the milk shake only to stuff her mouth with fries.

"You don't have a gown yet?" Caroline asks, eyebrows up to her hairline in shock.

Jo turns to her, blue eyes flashing with despair. "Is that bad?"

"Uhm, _duh_? You have to have your dress at least six months in advance, if you don't want to pick something cheap off a rack. All the adjustments and the fittings -"

"You're not helping, Caroline," Bonnie cuts in, sending her a pointed look. As she spoke, Jo's face contorted with terror. She seems on the verge of tears now. Pregnancy is not being kind to her.

"I'm sorry," Caroline offers earnestly. "But somebody has to tell you these things. I chose my _prom_ dress three months in advance."

"And then Elena stole it from you on the day, but you still managed to get another one in time,” Bonnie remarks in a hopeful tune, looking at Jo.

"Do you want me to apologize two years too late?" Elena offers as she sits down again.

"Not really. The principle of the thing was definitely screwed up, but the dress I ended up with was _way_ better."

Bonnie nods solemnly. "That is true. How _did_ you get that dress, by the way? You never told me."

Caroline looks down at her plate, pushing her fries around. "From Klaus."

"Klaus gave you that dress?" Elena scoffs, slightly disbelieved. "Another one?"

"Klaus, your baby daddy?" Jo asks. "Is he a stylist?"

The thought of Klaus as a _stylist_ of all things coaxes a loud laugh out of Caroline. Elijah would point out that someone who can barely bother with a decent tie cannot ever be responsible for styling other beings. The thing with Klaus is that mother nature was so kind to him that whatever he throws on looks good, which hardly applies to mere mortals (or immortals). It takes him three minutes to look like he stepped out of someone's daydream. And the same goes for Elijah, although he definitely has more of a refined taste. Neither of them really knows what it's like to have to bother.

"He's more like a hoarder," she explains. "Collects antiques and valuables of all kinds. Including pieces of clothing worth a lot more than I could ever afford."

"He wouldn't happen to have a wedding gown, would he?"

Caroline snorts. “Yeah, no. Klaus is probably allergic to -” Suddenly, an idea sparks to mind. Klaus definitely doesn’t have any wedding gowns in his collection, but she does remember someone who had an entire chest filled with them. "You know what? I know someone who might. I'll send her a text."

As the conversation proceeds, Caroline takes out her phone and starts typing a message to Rebekah. Last they spoke, shortly after her mother's funeral, she had been in Cambodia. Her search for something to bring Kol back to life has been carrying her to the far ends of the earth. It might take her a while to answer, but if that chest full of wedding gowns is still at the compound, then maybe Freya can help Caroline find something for Jo. She remembers this one piece she fell immediately in love with, but that wouldn't fit her five-months pregnant hips, which generated a lot of frustration on her part. Jo is not even showing yet, and her body type is very similar to Rebekah's Original figure.

"So, big decision," Jo continues, turning back to Elena. "Go."

"I think you should take the cure. Decision made," Bonnie says simply.

“You guys…” Elena drawls. “What if I miss the perks? Like compelling the owner of a diner to close early for us.”

"Or a shop owner to give you someone else's dress?" Caroline shoots, quickly snapping her eyes up to her friend and then back to her phone.

"Or that. It's a nice perk. Or, you know, what if I get sick?"

"Or what if the human-you doesn't love Damon anymore?" Bonnie's suggestion causes an awkward silence to descend upon the table. Elena's smile slides off her face, her eyes flashing with hurt. "What? Someone had to say it."

Bonnie's not wrong. That was, in fact, the first thing to cross Caroline's mind. The last thing they know of human Elena is that she had just asked Matt to turn back around to Mystic Falls because she had chosen Stefan over Damon. For all they know, that period of time she spent unknowingly sired to Damon might have confused her permanently. It's totally possible that, if she were to revert back to her human state, her feelings for the Salvatore brothers could do a somersault as well. A possibility which Caroline is personally very on board with. But knowing Elena, she must be terrified just thinking about another brother jump, especially since Damon is the one offering her not only the cure, but to take it with her. It would kill her to fall out of love with him, but probably not faster than it would kill him.

"That's ridiculous," Jo breaks the ice. "Being supernatural doesn't change who you are. I should know. I'm an ex-witch who's about to marry an ex-vampire. Deep down, you always know who you are, what you want. Heightened emotions don't mean wrong emotions."

Elena smiles gratefully at Jo, and then everyone, almost at once, turns to look at Caroline. She blinks. "What?"

"You've been through this recently with your transition," Bonnie clarifies.

"That was different. I went from human to vampire, not the other way around. I don't know what happens if you suddenly lose the vampire factor."

"But did anything change for you in how you felt? You know..." Bonnie shrugs, her lips twitching a little as though she's about to say a bad word. "For Klaus."

"First of all, _Klaus_ is not a jinx, Bonnie. He's not gonna pop up out of nowhere just because you said his name." Caroline casts a hasty look to the door, just to make sure. She didn't tell him where she was going, but she wouldn't put it past him, paranoid as he is, to have followed her all the way here. Luckily, it seems like he didn't. Yet. "And second," she ploughs on. "Of course things were different. It's impossible to go through such a deep change in your very constitution and not feel different. Even about Klaus. But if you're asking me if my feelings for him waned between stages, no. I loved him as a witch, and I still loved him as a vampire. And the thing is, love is always gonna require a huge leap in faith, doesn't matter what kind it is, if the person you're with is a vampire or a human or a werewolf or a freaking hybrid. Love is scary. It's a big scary leap over a hot pit of lava. You might end up heartbroken, but you also might be the happiest person on the face of earth, and you won't know unless you try. Personally, I'm glad I took that leap."

All of a sudden, the cautious and slightly doubtful looks Caroline was getting smooth into something softer. Even Bonnie offers her a tight-lipped grin. That, Caroline reckons, is as much approval as she's ever going to get from her friends where Klaus is concerned.

"Having said that," she adds after a moment, sending Elena a look under her lashes. "I would not be opposed to you deciding that human you is more of a Stefan kind of girl."

Elena's phone dings, interrupting an epic eyeroll. "Speak of the devil," she announces, turning the phone to them. It's Damon, asking her to meet him in ten minutes. "Since you all have been poking fun at me all night for having walked out on him..." she stands up, putting the rest of her fries into a paper bag. "You won't mind if I go see what he wants now, right? See you later."

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It's been a minute since Klaus laughed this much. And he's not even remotely drunk, despite him and Stefan having made it through the whole bottle of bourbon. Suddenly, he’s no longer questioning his decision to leave the house. This is definitely worth his while.

He'd heard it from Bonnie Bennett and then second-hand from Caroline about the Salvatore matriarch, Lily, with a certain degree of interest. After the disaster that befell his life over the last year, with his mother returning from the dead to haunt them all with all kinds of plagues and refined torture techniques, he finds it ironic in a most comical way that the Salvatore brothers are now facing the same dilemma. And the similarities are far greater than Klaus could've ever thought.

While he was busy with Caroline as she took a break from the gang’s antics, Damon went on a trip with Bonnie, Elena and that lunatic, Kai - who, as it seems, did not make the trip back - to the far year of 1903, after Bonnie returned with evidence that Lily Salvatore was never dead to begin with. According to Kai Parker, his family had set up a Prison World for her and some _friends_ , because - and here's the most delightful part - lovely Lily wasn't as much of an angel as her children remembered. They thought she died of consumption in 1858. Instead, she'd risen from her death bed to roam the world as a vampire, long before either of her boys followed in her footsteps.

Now the woman is back in the land of the living, after over 100 years of nearly complete isolation in a world where time never moved forward. Already she is wreaking havoc, as well as her sons' hearts.

"I'm sorry," Klaus says in-between waves of laughter as he tries to rein himself in before a stony-faced Stefan. "You mean to tell me your mother is a Ripper?"

"There's nothing funny about that," he hisses, all seriousness.

"But of course there is! It's hilarious!" Klaus laughs again, shaking his head. "So, there is such a thing as a Ripper gene. I never knew that. Although... Now that I think about it, we’re all a bit loose with our appetites in my family." The moment the words leave his mouth, a brand-new concern blossoms in his head - what does that mean about Eve? Is she going to be a ruthless little temperamental brute like her father, or will she inherit her mother’s milder and generally more affable social skills? And Caroline's moods can rival his own on occasion. Huh... Eve might turn out to be quite something, indeed.

"She went on a blood bender all through Europe," Stefan recalls, staring into his fireplace. "Killed over 3000 people. Every single person on the boat she took to return to the States was dead by the time they docked."

Klaus gets a ping of recognition at that bit of information. A very long time ago, he got word of something of the kind. It was not every day the righteous Geminis left the cover of darkness to act, after all. When they did, word always got out. "When was that?" he asks.

"1903, the year the Geminis locked her up in a Prison World."

"In New York?"

Stefan blinks at him. "Yeah, she arrived in New York."

A wolfish smile spreads over Klaus' lips. "I heard about that one. It took a huge cover up effort, the news flew all over the country over the supernatural grapevine. So you're saying Mama Salvatore was behind it? Well, you have to introduce me, mate. I'm a fan of her work."

Stefan narrows his eyes at him, lips pressed tightly together. Klaus can almost see the fire of irritation shining behind the practiced aloofness of the youngest Salvatore. "I can't imagine how Caroline tolerates you."

"I'd think you, of all people, would," Klaus quips with a cheeky grin. Which then morphs into a salacious smirk as another memory comes forward, one from the roaring 20s in Chicago. Those were rather thirsty times - and Stefan was a much more entertaining companion back then. Klaus even dared to call him _friend_. Not a title he hands out freely. 

Stefan frowns at him as though he has no idea what's on his mind, and then his eyes widen with horror as it sinks in. The younger man springs up to his feet in what’s probably his version of a blush, deeply rattled. "Get out," he commands, pointing to the door.

"Oh, come now, Stefan. There's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm quite the charmer when I want to be, and I do know for a fact you were rather amused by my -"

"Shut up, Klaus. Just... Shut up." 

"It's alright to reminisce, mate. I'm unfortunately off the market now, so that's all you'll be able to do. But I'm sure you and Caroline could bond over -"

"I said _shut up_." Stefan glowers when Klaus laughs, shrugging on a jacket and then knocking back what was left in his glass. "I'm gonna go find my mother before she kills someone else," he announces. Before Klaus can open his mouth to volunteer, he points a finger at him. "And you're not invited."

Stefan turns on his heels and bolts out the door.

"No sense of humor, that one," he tsks to his nearly empty glass. "Elijah would be more of his type."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Bad news," Caroline announces as she returns to the table after a quick phone call to confirm what she already suspected. "Damon has permanently hijacked Elena."

"What happened to fries before guys?" Jo whines as she eats what is likely her fourth serving of the evening. At least she's thoroughly enjoying her party.

"Apparently when they make huge creepy eyes at you, fries lose," Caroline snipes with a caustic little smile. "It's just us, then."

"Do you wanna take this party somewhere else?" Bonnie asks.

Jo lets out a heavy sigh, finally reaching the end of her stomach's capacity. "Yes. To my bed. You guys might have to roll me all the way there."

The three of them stand up at the same time, picking up their coats and bags. Caroline gathers all of the garbage they've accumulated and throws it out on the recyclable bin in the corner. Just because they compelled the management to let them use their diner doesn't mean they have to give them extra work. She also took the one nice page out of Klaus' book and made sure to leave a generous tip to the staff working in the kitchen to see to Jo's insatiable hunger. Pregnancy really is a bitch.

"Oh my God," Bonnie says, her posture changing all of a sudden. She stands up straight, her expression strained. Caroline follows her eyes and sees a woman standing right outside, staring at them through the glass door. Not someone she’s ever seen before, but something about her strikes Caroline as familiar.

"Good evening, Ms. Bennett," the woman says politely as she enters the diner. "I was out for a walk and I saw you through the window and I thought, 'I know her. That young lady ruined my life.'"

"Who's this?" Jo asks.

"Lily Salvatore," Bonnie says from behind grit teeth.

 _Oh, crap_ , Caroline thinks.

So _that's_ the infamous Lily Salvatore, the topic of every single conversation in Mystic Falls until Damon decided to announce he wants to take the cure. Bonnie didn't go into details, but she did mention she destroyed the Ascendant, the magical object required to travel between this world and the Prison World built by the Geminis where Lily was being kept - and where she left Kai. She did it to make sure he would never escape, but apparently Lily hadn't been alone there. Some of her friends were left behind, friends she’d intended to go back for, but now that the Ascendant has been destroyed, a rescue is no longer possible.

And it seems she has not taken it lightly.

She slits her eyes dangerously at Bonnie, clenching her jaw, and Caroline instantly understands why she seemed so familiar in a way that didn't exactly rub her comfortably: Damon definitely took after her. They have the exact same shade of ice blue in calculating eyes.

"Bonnie destroyed something very dear to me," she grits out. "And now all I feel is insatiable hunger."

The veins around Lily’s eyes pop dark, red bleeding into the white. Caroline takes a step forward, putting herself between her and the other two women. "Back off, lady," she warns sternly.

Lily's gaze cuts to her as though only now noticing Caroline there, an assessing air about her while she tries to place what she is.

"I didn't do it to spite you, Lily," Bonnie says, taking a step forward. "I did it to keep Kai trapped."

"Surely, then, you can find another way to rescue my friends."

"There is no other way. And if I could help, I wouldn't,” Bonnie stands her ground defiantly. “I will not let him escape.”

Lily takes on a fighting stance, ready to jump Bonnie, but the witch is faster. Flinging a hand forth, she gives the older vampire one of those mind-numbing strokes. Lily drops on her knees, clutching her head in agony.

"Now, let it go and get out," Bonnie commands, starting to put her hand down, convinced that Lily had gotten the message and not willing to really harm Stefan and Damon's mother. But the courtesy is not reciprocated, and her brief moment of alleviation is enough to allow Lily to react. She reaches for a receipts holder by the door and throws it like a dart towards Bonnie. Her aim is good, even with pain still cracking through her skull. The thing would've pierced right through Bonnie’s heart, had Caroline not grabbed it midair, mere inches from her friend's chest.

"You did _not_ just do that," she spits angrily at the woman.

It had been a while since Caroline felt her monster stirring with violence inside of her. And unlike Bonnie, she's had enough of screwed up mothers harming the people she loves.

In a blink, she has vamped over to Lily, shoving her against the wall much faster and more strongly than the older vampire could've anticipated. She lets out a breathless moan, eyes wide as Caroline's hand closes around her neck.

"Are you... a wolf?" she chokes out.

"I'm something worse."

Caroline increases the pressure, ready to break her neck and leave her dead on the ground while she gets Bonnie and Jo out of there, but somehow Lily manages to find another receipt holder, and this time she doesn’t miss, stabbing Caroline's side with it.

"Son of a -!" she grits out, a shock wave of pain traveling through her body as her grip around the woman's neck slackens.

It's enough for Lily to free herself and bolt out the door.

Caroline stumbles backwards, her vision doubling as her lungs fill with blood. She grinds her teeth, pulling the thing out and throwing it on the floor, leaving a trail of blood. So much for trying to keep the place tidy.

"Oh my God. Are you ok?" Jo rushes over to her, the mortal’s heartbeat spiking so fast Caroline can feel the _boom, boom, boom_ as though it were beating outside her chest.

She takes a deep breath as her wound begins to heal. "Yeah," she says, still a little breathless. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

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It seemed impossible for that affair at the Salvatores' to get any worse, but as the night went on and the people grew more wired on cheap booze, that's exactly what happened. Klaus really did give it a try - after stealing another decent bottle of bourbon from Stefan's bedroom before he joined the commoners, of course - but it was simply unpalatable for more than thirty straight minutes.

He did, however, pick up on some very interesting bits of conversation. Even had a rather curious chat with a man whose Queen's accent attracted his attention. He'd heard his name being spoken about before, Enzo. Bit of an attitude for his taste, but he did carry _some_ news.

When it seemed as though he'd have more of a lively evening chasing after Stefan across town than sticking around that bachelor's party, that's exactly what Klaus did. But by the time he finally found his old friend, the fun part was pretty much over.

"Ahh..." he says dejectedly as he enters the Mystic Grill. The bar is empty safe for Stefan and a young man he just compelled to forget a wonderful bloody spectacle he likely just witnessed. The man walks by Klaus with a hollow stare as he marches out obediently. The state of the bar, completely in shambles, and the coppery smell of blood staining the air reveal the quality of what he missed out on. "Broken glassware, the overwhelming scent of fresh blood... I see the family reunion went without a hitch."

"If you were going to follow me when I specifically told you not to, you could've at least showed up ten minutes ago. I had to compel the entire restaurant by myself," Stefan whines.

"Have a word with Elijah about being held captive and tortured for days on end by your own mother, having your mind and your memories ravaged, distorted and broken, and then you can make a formal complaint about this,” he waves a hand towards the mess. "No one beats Esther on the Worst Mother Awards." A few broken chairs, some bloodshed, alcohol gone to waste. Fun, no doubt. But not the worst problem a deranged mother can cause her son. 

"I didn't realize we were competing," Stefan grumbles as he pulls a chair up.

"I merely offer perspective. Trust me when I say it could be far worse. Though from what I heard, you might still get there. The night is young." Stefan's eyebrows snap together in question as Klaus makes his way over to the bar, pouring himself a shot of scotch. "Turns out that bachelor party wasn't a complete waste of my time. I heard a fascinating bit of gossip."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He turns back to Stefan, a delighted smile kicking up the corners of his lips. "Damon has the cure. And if you can believe his bluster, he plans on taking it with Elena. Perhaps even tonight."

Stefan stares at him like he spoke in an unintelligible language before he huffs out a laugh. "I think I would know if my brother were planning on turning _human_."

"Based on the blank look on your face just now, I take it this is the first time you're hearing about this, so clearly you don't. Brothers, ei?" Klaus lifts his shot in the air and then downs it at once. "Like children, really. You leave them unsupervised for two whole minutes and they go about stabbing you in the heart, trying to kiss your girl, considering the cure..." He lets out a dramatic exhale, shaking his head in mock-sympathy, but the look on Stefan's face is quite heartbreaking, indeed.

When Rebekah revealed that Elijah had considered, for a mere swift moment, taking their mother's deal, Klaus' whole world stopped spinning. He knows what Stefan's feeling right now, that stab of betrayal pricking at his insides as he considers the odds of it being true. Sympathy aside, Klaus is still thoroughly amused by this most unexpected turn of events.

"It's a shock, isn't it? When you realize they have aspirations you didn't even know of, that they might leave you. Happens to us all, mate. We can either stand here debating the merits of Damon's crooked words, or we can split up and find your mother before she rips some more heads. I got a feeling from this lad, Enzo, that she would be going after Damon and Elena."

Stefan blinks at him, his eyes flashing at the doppelganger's name. "Why?"

"How should I know? She's your mother. I'm just passing on the information."

"Why do you want to help me?"

Klaus shrugs, pursing his lips. "Call it solidarity. I, too, know the pain of having a psychotic mother. Moreover..." He stops in front of Stefan, dimples denting his cheeks. "I'm terribly bored."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You know, there was a time when mothers _loved_ me," Caroline rants as she checks the damage on her now ruined shirt, soaked in blood. She _liked_ that shirt, goddamnit. "I was a hit whenever I was introduced to the parents. _Any_ parents. Now it seems all mothers want to do is murder me. What the hell is wrong with that?"

Jo sinks down on a chair - more like tumbles, really, her strength just bleeding out of her all at once. Her face looks awfully pale. Both Caroline and Bonnie rush over to her side.

"Are you ok?" Bonnie asks.

She nods slowly. "I owe you a thank you," she says to the witch. "For destroying that stupid Ascendant."

"Why?"

"That crazy murderous woman is obviously very keen on opening the portal to the 1903 Prison World again. And… Just today I found out I am pregnant with twins."

"Uh... Congratulations?" Caroline offers hesitantly, sensing there’s a catch by the somber way she delivered the news.

"Yeah, thanks. But that means I've been bumped up to number one on Kai's hit list. You, Bonnie, are now second."

"What does that mean?" Caroline inquires.

"That my family will try to take my children from me. A new Gemini twin merge is the only thing that can strip Kai of his power, and I just became their best shot."

"By merge, you mean...?"

"One of them will have to kill the other," Jo says darkly, a shadow flitting across her face. She places a protective hand over her stomach, clenching her jaw. It sends an unpleasant chill down Caroline's spine. Unpleasant and all too close to home. It feels like yesterday that she was the one carrying the magical baby everyone wanted to get rid of. She decides she _hates_ this coven before she's even gotten to know them properly. The woman finds out she's expecting twins and her first reaction is to panic. Now Caroline understands why Jo was binge-eating the entire diner, trying to bury her anxiety with French fries. "I hope you meant what you said," she tells Bonnie, looking at her with a plea. "That there is no way out of that world."

Bonnie takes her hand, kneeling down in front of Jo. "I promise. He's not getting out."

Jo lets out a more relieved breath, her shoulders sagging a little. "Worst bachelorette party ever, right?" She laughs nervously. "I'm a little dizzy. I think I need to stop by the hospital, my blood pressure must be skyrocketing."

"I'll call a cab," Bonnie says, standing up to get her phone.

"Come on." Caroline helps Jo to her feet. "Just lean all your weight on me. I'll carry you."

Jo flings an arm around Caroline's shoulder while she wraps another one around the woman's waist, easily taking her feet off the ground as they walk outside.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus has a feeling Stefan is about to owe him a big one. The younger Salvatore wanted to split up, so they’d cover more ground faster - although Klaus suspects he just got fed up with the running commentary he was offering. And they call _him_ moody.

On his own, it takes Klaus less than twenty minutes to pick up the scent of the other Salvatores in the air, as well as something else. Something rather... Quaint. And more than a tad telling. A scent that was once so very alluring to him, but that he hadn't felt since long before he left Mystic Falls.

Klaus tracks them down to a parking lot behind a restaurant. It seems as though the happy family reunion was not kind to the eldest Salvatore either. Damon is lying motionless on the floor, while poor Elena is being rounded by a woman. A vampire. The infamous Lily, he assumes. If she doesn't like the doppelganger, then Klaus has to say he's even more of a fan now.

"I didn't have to turn into this person. I kept her at bay for so long. But my sons, they ruined everything," she's telling a terrified Elena, voice laced with disdain.

"They were just trying to help," the doppelganger replies just as she hits the car behind her, terror flashing through her face as she realizes she's trapped.

"Look at me! They're not helping!" Elena winces at Lily's scream. She goes very still then, her eyes following a line to Elena's hand. Klaus knows exactly what she's sensing; he felt it too. Doppelganger blood. _Human_ doppelganger blood. "You're bleeding," Lily notes, tilting her head as she looks back up at Elena. "You took the cure. You're human."

"You don't wanna feed on me," Elena half begs, her eyes flitting down to Damon's still passed out form, wishing for a miracle right then.

"Yes, Elena," Lily replies coldly. "I do."

"Please... No..." Elena cries. Not even a full day as human and about to get murdered by her mother-in-law. See, this is why Klaus has always been firmly against this cure lunacy - with the marked exception of when it suited him, of course -, and why he refused to let Rebekah entertain this ludicrous idea. Humans as far too fragile.

As much as Klaus finds the unfolding drama highly entertaining and would love to see the fear of God instilled in Elena by none other than Lily Salvatore, he decides it's in his best interests at the moment to put an end to it. Call him sentimental, but after having Esther try to kill Caroline so many times, he's developed a strong aversion to mothers attempting to murder the object of their sons' affections. Not that this object of affection is in any way relevant to him, not anymore, but it's just the whole principle of the thing. Dead relatives should _stay_ dead. Not to mention... Caroline would probably eat his liver for letting her friend get hurt under his watch, so. A wise man knows how to pick his battles.

It takes a second. He vamps over to the woman and snaps her neck with one fluid, swift jerk. Lily Salvatore drops to the ground right beside her son. The two of them kind of look alike; seems rebel, untamable Damon was a bit of a mama's boy, after all.

"Well, that's enough of that," he announces to a still terrified Elena.

Her tears-rimmed eyes widen, breath hitching as she croaks, not at all relaxed. "Klaus."

A pleasant smile spreads on his lips. "I thought you’d be happier to see me, love. You're welcome, by the way.” His eyes rake appreciatively over Elena's body as he takes in the frail humanity of her constitution. "Mortal doppelganger," he notes with amusement. Elena nearly jumps out of her skin, backing up against the car as though that would save her if he decided to attack. Klaus huffs out a laugh. "That's not necessary. I'm not in the business of making hybrids anymore. Not worth the effort, to be honest. Ungrateful tossers, all of them."

"Then why are you here?" she demands with a bit of a snap.

"It appears I’m here to rescue you.”

She frowns, confusion clouding her scared puppy eyes. "Why?"

"I'm in a charitable mood. And also very bored. You wouldn't happen to know where I might find Caroline, would you?"

Before she can provide an answer, however, Stefan flashes into the scene. "You found her?" he blurts out, a little breathless, taking in the situation.

Klaus sighs. "Of course I found her, in a second. Honestly, however your little gang managed to thwart my plans for so long is a mystery. Incompetents, all of you.”

"You were easily distracted," Stefan provides.

And, well. Klaus makes a face, shrugging. It is true.

"Are you ok?" Stefan asks Elena, concern etched onto his features. But then he stops, eyes narrowing just a tad as he realizes the same thing Klaus and Lily did before.

Klaus studies him closely, trying to decipher the rush of emotions slicing through his stoicism. Stefan is a difficult one to read, being so guarded all the time, so prudishly closed off, ashamed of the darker parts of his soul. He is, however, clearly divided; there was once a time when he would've given anything to get Elena the cure so she would go back to being her old self, the one who was desperately in love with him. Now, however... Klaus sees something like betrayal there. As though the fact she decided to do that without even telling him first is a stab to his poor heart.

As if on cue, Damon begins to stir awake, moaning as he rolls onto his stomach and tries to push himself off the ground.

"Get up," Stefan commands his brother, voice laced with temper. "We need to get Lily home."

"I'm fine," Damon groans as he stands, a hand to his neck. "Thanks for asking." The vampire stops when his eyes land on Klaus, his features darkening in a second. Klaus offers the other man a cheeky grin. "What is devil's spawn doing here?"

"Your job for you," Klaus replies. “Not for the first time, I’m the one keeping your girl alive.”

Damon opens his mouth to shoot some obscenity or another at him, but Stefan beats him to it. "So were you gonna tell me or was it just easier to be your normal dickish self?" he spits at his brother. It's not like him to have this kind of confrontation in front of other people. In true Elijah fashion, he’s more of a passive aggressive sufferer, leaving the dirt to be washed in privacy. He must be truly hurt. For some reason, Klaus is rather satisfied knowing that he and Elijah aren't the only pair of siblings with unresolved bitter feelings for one another.

"Must we discuss this now, in front of the kids?" Damon motions to the side, where Klaus and Elena are.

The doppelganger turns to him. "I think we should go."

"Absolutely not," Klaus scoffs. "This just got interesting."

"Being human is the last thing you want," Stefan tells Damon.

Damon sighs with irritation. "What I want, Stef, is to be with Elena."

"Do you have any idea what it felt like for me? To have to hear it from _Klaus_? To have no say as to whether I lose my brother or not?"

"Of course I know what it feels like. Why do you think I didn't tell you? Can we wrap this and lock her up before she wakes?" Damon picks up his mother's body and throws her over his shoulder, carrying her to the backseat of his car, parked a little ahead on the street.

"Stefan..." Elena starts apologetically as the eldest Salvatore walks off.

There's a spark of bitter hurt in his eyes as he turns to her. "You already took the cure," he states harshly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

She opens and closes her mouth wordlessly a few times before she gives up on adding anything else, doe eyes bright with guilty tears. Then she turns around and gets in the car with Damon. Klaus snorts under his breath. Some guilt that…

Damon doesn't even wait for Stefan to follow, simply drives off into the night.

The younger man cuts a dejected figure standing there, ridden with doubts and quite clearly aching. The girl he loves decided not to share with him that she was about to make the single most important choice of her brief immortal life. And his brother was about to do the same. Klaus recognizes the feeling very well; he's been there more than a few times with Elijah and Rebekah over the years. And even with Caroline, truth be told. It was a very convoluted day of anger, the one he spent thinking she’d be marrying Jackson Kenner.

"Hurts, doesn’t it? Being the last one to know.” Stefan blinks him into focus, snapping out of whatever dark thoughts had sucked him in, and merely glares at him. “I wouldn't let him," Klaus adds.

"Let him what?"

"Esther offered us a deal when she came back from the dead last year. To put us all in the bodies of mortal supernatural creatures - witches for my siblings, a werewolf for me - so that we could live out what she deemed would be a moral life. Caroline included. If Elijah had decided to take her up on that offer, I wouldn't have let him."

"You wouldn't have been able to stop him."

"There's always a way to stop them," Klaus says. "You just have to be willing to go there."

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The second Caroline walks through the front door, Klaus has vamped up to her face, doesn't even wait for her to take off her jacket before he’s fixing her under a glare.

"Hi?" she says, frowning. "Someone's a little edgy."

"You're hurt," he states, eyes flashing. "I thought you said you were going to a bachelorette party."

"I did."

His eyes travel down to the large blood stain on her shirt, lips twisting with antipathy. "What kind of medieval celebration is that where you end up bleeding?"

Caroline sighs. "I'm fine. Mama Salvatore crashed our party."

He tilts his head. "Lily Salvatore?"

"Is there any other?"

"Why did she crash your party?"

"She wanted revenge on Bonnie for destroying the Ascendant and trapping her friends with Kai in 1903. So, obviously, I had to step in."

"There's nothing _obvious_ about it. That woman is a Ripper, Caroline," he chides.

"Exactly. She was going to hurt Bonnie, probably Jo, too. But I'm fine. You should see her."

"I did. She seemed in perfect health as she tried to feed on Elena."

Caroline's brow creases, so many questions at once popping to mind. "What? Why would she -" And then realization dawns on her. If Lily was going to feast on Elena, that can only mean... "Elena took the cure?"

"Yes. Just an ordinary, easily killable doppelganger now."

Caroline gapes, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

She didn't think Elena would make that decision so fast, or that she would go ahead and do it without telling anybody first. Knowing Elena, Caroline thought she would want a send-off party to say goodbye to her vampirism, maybe do a bunch of crazy stuff to enjoy the last of her endurance and ridiculous alcoholic tolerance. The fact that she just walked out of that diner seemingly taken with doubts and just _did it_... Whatever Damon had to tell her, it must've been hella convincing.

As she ruminates over Elena's transformation, something else hits her. The way Klaus said _killable doppelganger_ , with the same scorn he would say _Jackson_ or _flannel shirts_ , like something he'd like to crush under his boots and bring to extinction. Caroline snaps her mouth shut, fixing him with a harsh look. "Klaus," she draws his name out as a warning. "You cannot -"

"Yes, yes." He waves an impatient hand. "The matter has been thoroughly covered. I've had my share of mutinous hybrids and am not looking forward to repeating the experience. Between Tyler's liberation army and your Crescent friends, I've hung up my hybrid farming days. I'm more concerned with this." He grabs the hem of her blood-soaked shirt and pulls it up to inspect her body closely.

Caroline scoffs at the thoroughness, but the concern etched onto his face kind of warms her heart a little. Klaus touches the skin on the side of her torso, fingers grazing the exact spot where the metal went in as though he could feel it. Caroline gets a tingly rush, but Klaus remains perfectly focused on his inspection.

After a moment, she prods, "Happy?"

Klaus lifts a finger in the air, the tip red with the not-yet dry blood on her clothes and skin. "Not in the slightest."

"I'm healed." She puts her shirt down and breezes by him, moving to the living room. "I had Lily, she's been malnourished and out of practice for way too long to take me on. But she buried this check spindle in me and bolted out of there."

"This is how vampires end up dead, Caroline," he scolds sternly.

"Well, clearly." She opens her arms and then lets them fall next to her body. "Damn..." she mutters, inspecting the damage on her shirt again. Even if she could remove the blood, which is doubtful, the tear on the fabric makes it beyond salvation. "Why is it always the nice shirts that get torn?”

She pulls it out over her head and uses the ruined remnants of a once beautiful satin top she paid full price for to wipe out the rest of the blood from her skin. She doesn't want to risk making a mess of anything else around the house.

When she looks up, Klaus has a cocked eyebrow at her, gaze drawing appreciatively down to her chest. "Anything here you haven't seen before?" she teases, not at all displeased with his stare. He seems to bite back on a smile. Caroline tosses the shirt on the floor and sinks down on the couch. "So... Elena is human again," she says, in need of going back to debate this one particular point.

Somehow, saying it out loud makes it feel more real. After everything they went through all those years ago, waking up Silas and stirring a load of shit that had infinite lasting consequences, this brings her a weird sense of full circle. As though Elena’s humanity was some kind of ultimate finish line they were supposed to cross two years ago, and now that they have… Caroline’s not entirely sure what to make of it.

"Confirming what I've always thought of her," Klaus comments. "Naively optimistic and terribly shortsighted."

"She never wanted to be a vampire. From the second she heard about the cure, that was all Elena wanted. The glamour of immortality is just not for her." Caroline pauses, brow furrowing. "But I always thought it was for Damon. He wants to take the cure with her."

"So I've heard."

"Wow, for someone who hates everything and everyone, you're very _integrated_."

"News travels fast when your friends have big mouths and a penchant for making their business everybody else's problems."

"It's funny how other people's problems find you when you crash parties you weren't invited to." Klaus rolls his eyes at her, but offers no defense. Frankly, she half expected him to do something like that. He’d have to be possessed to stay at home with the baby while she was out at a party. She cracks a little smile at him, and goes back to the important subject at hand. "You don't think Damon shoved the cure down her throat, do you?"

"Like Elena ever needed a push to make idiotic decisions."

"When she left the diner, she seemed very doubtful, not at all ready to make a decision. And Damon has a pretty bad track record respecting other people’s opinions. Though... I can't see how he would benefit from that."

That's the part of the puzzle Caroline can't crack. Damon didn't even have to give the cure to Elena. Caroline left it entirely in his hands to decide whether to do it or not. If he wanted to stay a vampire forever and make sure Elena would remain so with him, he could just destroy it, or put it in a safe and throw it in the ocean. The only thing that explains it all is to believe that Damon actually showed an inkling of selflessness and did something that was entirely on someone else's benefit, regardless of his own personal feelings on the matter. After years of trying to control Elena, he finally let go of the leash and let _her_ rule her own future, and whatever she chose, he was ready to follow. It's the kind of thing Caroline would expect from Stefan, not from him. She just... Has a real hard time believing Damon is capable of such a thing.

"Doesn't it shock you that Damon would want to be human?" she asks Klaus.

"He doesn't want to be human. He wants to make sure Elena will feel responsible enough to never leave him," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Huh. That makes sense, actually. I'd say that's awful, but you know... Coming from Damon, it's still a big thing that he's even willing to give up immortality for her at all."

There's a stretch of silence that weighs more awkwardly than it should. Klaus peers at her with a thought, waiting for her to say the words he knows are in both their heads. "Go on, then."

Caroline grins. "Would you?"

He sighs as he sinks down on the couch beside her. "We've had this conversation. Three years ago."

"A lot has changed in the last three years."

He turns to her with a pinched expression and unreadable eyes. "What do you want me to say, Caroline?"

"The truth."

He wets his lip with the tip of his tongue while he considers his answer, but he does not look away. "I still feel no inclination whatsoever to cure myself of being the strongest creature alive."

Caroline takes his hand in hers, smiling up at him. "You're the proudest vampire I've ever met. I'd be concerned if you'd said anything else."

"Do you resent me?"

"For not wanting to be something you haven't been for a thousand years?"

"For not wanting to take the cure under any circumstances." He doesn’t have to say the next part for her to hear it. _Not even if you asked me to_.

"I would never want you to take the cure, Klaus. I would never even ask. Your case is not the same as Elena's, not even the same as Damon's. They know what it's like to be human, it wasn't that long ago for them. For you... Your real self is not human anymore. Hasn't been for a _very_ long time. And to be quite honest with you... The fact that you're virtually indestructible is a bit of a comfort for me right now."

His mouth pulls into a tight-lipped grin. “Would you take it?”

Caroline sighs, looking down at their joined hands. She turns his palm up, absently following the lines with the tip of her finger. "For a long time, I thought a cure was all I wanted. I hated every second of my transition and the first few months were a nightmare. I hated what I was turning into, hated that I felt so out of control. There are still times when I miss being a witch. But..." She looks up at him again. This is a conversation she did not envision them having any time soon. It was not something Klaus had to know. It's a non-fact that would spin into a real argument, and Caroline had made the executive decision to avoid it at all costs, at least for the time being, while they’re still patching things up. Anything to disrupt this plateau of understanding they’ve reached seems like a risk she’s not willing to take. Suddenly, however, she feels as though keeping it from him would be a serious offense. Besides… He did have a part in her decision, after all, even if not directly. He deserves to know. 

Honesty goes both ways, right? Call it positive reinforcement or whatever. 

"I didn't,” she finally declares.

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't take the cure. Bonnie gave it to me first. I gave it to Damon when I decided I didn't want it."

Klaus' expression becomes thunderous, eyes blazing into hers. "When was that?" he asks, sharpness creeping into his voice.

"About a week ago."

"How come I didn't hear about any of this?" he demands, equal parts disbelief and betrayal.

"There was nothing to tell. I decided I didn't want to take it, so I gave it away," she offers with a placating tone, even though she knows the decision was not as straightforward as the explanation suggests.

"But you were considering it,” he spins it as an accusation.

"I had the cure to vampirism in my hands. Of course I thought about it. How could I not? I have been a vampire for little over a year, Klaus, and a lot of that time was spent in sheer agony."

"And you didn't think that was worth a mention? If you'd felt a different inclination, you would've, what - chugged the damned cure and informed me later? Sent me a text message, perhaps?" His voice grows at least an octave higher as he goes, frustration cutting into it.

"Don't be so dramatic," she retorts, trying to remain level-headed. "If I'd decided I was going to take it, I would've talked to you about it before I did it."

"Why didn't you, then?" he asks. "You once said you hated being a monster."

"That was... A long time ago. I guess... I don't _hate_ being a vampire anymore. It took some adapting, but I'm ok with it now. There are still times when it's hard, but when I stopped to think about it, I realized I like the person that I am now, the one who came out the other side. And even if there are still aspects about my life that I miss, being a vampire is part of the package. And there was the fact I didn't want to think about Eve having to go through what I did, losing my mother so soon. Besides, the Crescents need me as a vampire. Witch me had no werewolf lingering bits. I'm not sure the ritual would stand if I reverted back to my original state. When I undo the mess you made, they need me like this so they won't have to turn every full moon."

Something like bitter hurt flickers across Klaus' eyes, his mouth drawing downwards into a frown that, with his full lips, turn out more like a pout. "So you decided to remain a vampire for the sake of the Bayou scum," he concludes. "How so very flattering."

"Seriously? _That_ is what you get from everything I said? Are you _jealous_?"

"It seems everyone else has made it into your list of priorities."

She rolls her eyes into the back of her head, shifting on the couch so she's facing him, folding her legs under her body. He turns to her with his chin up stubbornly, and Caroline puffs out a chuckle. "You know, Eve makes that _exact_ face when I don't let her have cookies. You realize it doesn't bode well for you to have the maturity of a toddler, right?"

"Yes, let's shift the focus and make me out to be at fault here."

"Klaus..." she speaks around a long exhale. "I didn't have to think hard to know where your preferences would lie. I knew what you were going to say and I didn’t need you eye-stabbing me towards a decision. I wanted to choose for myself, not be swayed by your pouty face. But I always trusted that, whatever I decided, you would take me either way. Elena has all these issues because she wasn't certain that her mortal self would still prefer Damon over Stefan. For me, being with you was never in doubt. It didn't play a big part because it was a sure thing."

"I wouldn't have let you take it.”

"Yes, you would."

"I would not," he insists with defiance.

"Yes, you would," she repeats, emphatically. "You would throw a tantrum, get your angry hollers heard from here to Louisiana, try to guilt or blackmail me into not doing it. I would be mad, we would fight, hurtful words would be said, we'd both get very pissed and it would suck. But after an arduous and unnecessarily long process, you would, at last, allow me to make my own decisions. You're very opinionated and you're a brat when you don't like something, but you _always_ let me do what I want, no matter how much you hate it. Because you trust me, and you respect me, and if you didn't, I wouldn't be with you. So you _would_ let me take the cure if you knew that's what I really wanted. If that would make me happy. And then you'd get crazy paranoid trying to keep me safe, and we'd have infinite arguments about how I can take care of myself and it would be business as usual."

"It's hilarious how you spin it in such a way that it sounds as though being with me is your equivalent to torture," he grumbles bitterly.

"Well, you're not exactly one of the most easy-going people I've ever met," she teases, touching a finger to his bottom lip when his displeased pout grows more pronounced. "But that was not at all what I meant. Yes, we bicker and we argue and we disagree on the most fundamental things, and sometimes that can be a pain, but it doesn't mean it's always bad. I like our back-and-forth. I’ve always been hot-headed, but I used to be the kind of person who would keep my opinions to myself if I thought that would start a fight in my relationships. I made myself small and accommodating so that the other person would always be happy because I thought that was the only way they’d like me. I thought my job was to always be supportive, no matter what. Even if it hurt me, even if I wanted something different, even if it killed me, and it very nearly did sometimes. The truth is this non-confrontational behavior only made things worse. For me, especially. I let people walk all over me to get what they wanted, when they needed, _always_ , and that made me miserable.

“With you, right off the start, maybe because of the unconventional nature of our _thing_ , I always felt like being upfront. I never shied away from giving you a piece of my mind - _calling you out on things I disapprove of_ ," she says, poking a finger into his arm. "And yeah, that sometimes leads to epic fights, but I prefer to have the fight than to pretend things are fine and choke up on bitterness. That corrodes a relationship. I like it about us that we're honest. I don’t have to pretend with you. I can be myself and you will listen, even if you don’t like. You don't underestimate my intelligence or treat me like I'm some stupid little girl who doesn't know any better. You listen to me. You treat me like... An equal."

Klaus' expression softens somewhat. "I don't treat you like an equal, Caroline. You are. I'd be an idiot to underestimate you."

She smiles brightly at him. "See? You know! And anyway, my point is... I would've never taken the cure without telling you first, but I didn’t have to ask you, because I knew exactly where I would want to be, one way or another. Right here." She presses closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. She places a kiss on his neck, then props her chin on his shoulder. "In spite of all our bickering, Klaus, there are moments when we fall into this easy rhythm and things are steady and good, and it just feels... Right. Like everything around me has fallen into place and I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. Like right now." Caroline leans forward, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth in a feather-like kiss. "And I wouldn't change that for the world."

Klaus tips towards her, ready to take her mouth into a proper kiss, but their lips barely touch and Caroline pulls back with a cheeky smile. Klaus' eyes darken, shining with intent, and he tries again, tilting his face greedily. Caroline lets him come near, and then escapes his touch with a chuckle. He closes his teeth as though trying to bite her, and Caroline laughs as he grunts in frustration. She lets the tip of her tongue out, running a wet line across the swell of his lower lip before pulling away once more, daring him. Klaus' eyes narrow, studying her with a challenge burning underneath the stormy blue. When he moves next, it's so fast she barely sees it.

In the blink of an eye, Klaus has her pinned down underneath him on the couch, holding her hands above her head with one of his own. His eyes burn with the heat of a supernova, shards of golden lighting up the blue, pupils dilated, and Caroline shivers all over. Heat gathers low in her belly and she instinctively clenches her thigh muscles to satiate the sudden ache in her middle. There's a sparkle behind Klaus' gaze as he realizes what she's doing, and he grinds down against her, coaxing a slow gasp out of her, a barely-there smirk curling those beautiful full lips of his, as expert at sinning as they are at worshipping.

"You are a very naughty girl, sweetheart," he speaks in a rough voice. "Hiding things from me. Defying me. Denying me. I'm not very patient, you know. Nor am I merciful. However shall I punish you?"

Caroline lifts her head, snapping her teeth together as she tries to catch his lips, and now he's the one to pull back with an amused smirk. "Careful. I'm wild," she retorts.

"Are you, now?" Klaus shifts his weight on top of her, kneading her legs apart, pushing his hips against hers. Caroline gasps when the growing bulge in his denims rubs against her middle, instincts kicking in as she wriggles underneath him, seeking more contact. "No... I think you're just greedy."

She can feel her every curve under Klaus' hard, muscled body - her breasts flattened under the expanse of his chest, her hips grinding up against his. The electricity in Klaus' gaze sends a bolt of wanton desire coursing right through her, straight to her core. An undignified sound escapes her mouth, and Klaus' smile turns triumphant.

When he lowers his face, she parts her lips, desperate for a kiss, but he gives her a wicked little grin and skips her mouth completely, touching her cheek instead. She grunts in displeasure, trying to wriggle her hands free, but he tightens the hold around her wrists as his mouth traces a line down to her neck with teeth and tongue. His touch is voracious, his bites getting stronger as he moves down, like he's trying to eat her up.

Klaus doesn’t stop, taking her throat, her collarbone and then the tops of her breasts. The pull of heat in Caroline's underbelly becomes almost too much to bear.

"Don't move your hands," he commands when he feels her getting antsy under him once more, using that thundering voice that makes people bristle with fear, but that now gets Caroline arching up as another jolt of pure, mind-bending desire shoots across her entire being. She huffs out a protest, but keeps her hands where they are, following his moves with rapt attention.

Klaus' hands cup her breasts as his lips dance on the swell spilling over her bra, but he does not take it off. She's waiting for him to do as he always does - bite the thing off of her or rip it to shreds; instead, he continues to move down. She whines a little under her breath, impatient, desperate for his tongue on her, for his fingers and teeth to tease her nipples, hard as buttons against the delicate fabric of her lingerie. She sends him a disapproving glare, but Klaus merely offers her a crooked and unrepentant grin, his clever, hot tongue circling her navel.

Caroline bites on her lip in anticipation for when he gets further down, straining to move her hands and undo her jeans herself. But Klaus takes a detour first, his mouth landing on the exact spot where the check spindle went in. Instead of biting, Klaus kisses her tenderly, and it steals her breath away.

"I've got half a mind to kill that woman myself," he croaks against her skin. "I should remove her insides through her mouth for daring to hurt you."

Caroline relaxes her body for just a second, smiling softly. "She's Stefan's mother."

"I don't care if she's the Pope," he hisses, snapping his head up. "She should be taught a hard lesson on what happens to anyone who dares to touch what’s mine."

The possessiveness of his tone and the roughness of his voice makes her squirm, a bundle of desire sizzling through her. In some far corner of her being, Caroline feels the feminist in her wincing a little, but the feminist in her is also very horny, and the frisson rushing up her skin quickly shuts her up. All hair on her body stands to attention, and Caroline has to bite on her lips to stifle a moan. She clenches her thighs around him, bucking up, desperate for the friction. This seems to dissipate some of the darkness in Klaus' gaze, and he smiles, all teeth and mischief, placing a palm on her stomach to push her down. "Not so fast, love."

Klaus can be impatient and hungry and burn like lava in bed, but occasionally, he likes to take his time, amused by how little restraint Caroline has when it comes to sex. She's all impulsiveness and exhilaration and the sweet torture of making her beg when all she wants is for him to push her up against the wall or bend her over and fuck the living daylight out of her makes Klaus impossibly hard.

Not that she's complaining; knowing this battle of wills is driving him to the edges as well makes her dripping wet with arousal. Caroline will gladly let him string her like a guitar if he wants to. She just... _Really_ wants him to fuck her.

Lapping at her underbelly, Klaus takes his time undoing the zipper of her tight jeans, hooking his fingers on the belt loops like he’s in no rush whatsoever. He sits back on his heels to pull it all the way down, and Caroline readily helps, bending her legs. As soon as she's free of it, Klaus' hands are running up her ankles, her calves and then her thighs, his grip hard and possessive. Caroline instinctively opens herself to him, legs spread apart, and Klaus' wolfish smile grows with the thrill.

"You're so wet," he croaks. "I can see it from here." With a deliberate move, Klaus' thumb grazes over her folds, skating across the mess of fabric between her thighs. Caroline whimpers, every part of her being coming alive with his touch. He moves it up and down, rubbing against her clit, and the _hunger_ she sees in his hooded eyes makes her gasp loudly.

"This is all for me, isn't it? You're wet like this for me." Caroline licks her lip and nods her head. "Say it," he commands.

"It's for you," she breathes, bucking down against his hand. "For God’s sake, Klaus, just -”

"Shh… Patience, love. Weren’t you the one trying to tease me? Don’t start a game you can’t play.”

She grunts loudly, half in frustration, half in pleasure as he keeps his finger dancing leisurely against her, throwing her head back. “Do not fucking shush me,” she hisses, though the obvious crack in her voice goads a laugh out of him.

“So feisty," he coos appreciatively.

He positions himself between her legs again, only this time he touches her thighs with his mouth, teeth and tongue marking her skin. She wishes it would last. She wishes she would wake up with purple hickeys all over, so that she could look at herself in the morning and get wet just remembering the feel of him, the smell of his arousal enveloping her, the way his eyes sparkle with sheer _want_ when he sets them on her body, like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Klaus kisses her middle, using his tongue to push the fabric into her slit, slowly at first, and then harder, nipping at it gently. Each movement tears an undignified noise out of her, and she pushes down against his face.

"Klaus," she speaks, her voice barely a rasp. "Please..."

"Please what?" he asks, his fingers curling on her hips. "Please, kiss me? Please, eat me? Please fuck me until I don't know right from wrong anymore?" Klaus drags every word, enunciating them slow and emphatically, spinning it into something absolutely filthy. Caroline shifts under him. "You're gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart."

"Everything," she says, lips parted, needy and desperate and not beyond begging. "Please, everything."

Klaus smirks with sheer malice again. "So very greedy." He hooks an expert finger on her panties and pulls it aside, exposing the full wetness of her arousal. A single finger travels up the heat of her folds to her clit, and hellfire licks Caroline up. One finger slides in, then another. Her toes curl, her knees bending as she pants. "Look at that," Klaus marvels, voice dripping with lust as he fucks her slowly, fingers curling deftly inside, making her writhe.

Almost without thinking, Caroline puts her arms down, grabbing at her breasts, kneading, pulling her bra out of the way so she can touch herself, but as soon as he notices what she's doing, Klaus pulls back. "Who said you were allowed to touch yourself? Put your hands back up."

With a grunt, she obeys, glaring down at him. "You are way too disobedient, Caroline. Somebody has to teach you some manners. You move when I tell you to. You do what I tell you to. And if you disobey me, you won't get what you want.” He slips half a finger inside her, teasing. “Are you going to behave now?"

She bites on a moan, nodding her head. "Yes. I promise."

"Good." He slides all the way in again, and Caroline's lips part in a breathless gasp. "If you’re good, I will make you come so hard you'll be seeing stars all night.”

"Oh, God..." she breathes out, shaking.

"Not God, love. I'm the devil."

Klaus leans forward again and gives her one hard lick, tongue swirling across her folds until he reaches her clit. He sucks it into his mouth, tongue working its impossible magic in flickering presses. He goes from licking to kissing to tongue-fucking her until he slides a long finger inside again, sending Caroline into agonizing extasy. She grinds down against his mouth, widening her legs for him while he eats her slide mercilessly. He's a starved man, trying to make her catch fire with the silky hotness of his mouth alone. All manner of cohesive thinking disappears from her mind, her whole body lit up like it’s the freaking 4th of July, ready to burst with her building orgasm. Caroline's moans are loud and unrestrained, and every once in a while, a scraped and deep sound will rumble in Klaus' throat.

She dares to lift her head to look, to capture the beauty of Klaus' messy hair, the way his hips move like he can barely contain himself, his face buried between her thighs. The sight of this beautiful, powerful, immortal man losing himself in her is almost enough to send Caroline spiraling. A throaty, desperate moan escapes her lips as she uses every fiber of her being to keep her hands to herself. _God_ , how she wants to touch him, comb her fingers through his hair, feel his burning skin under her hands. Instead, she bites on her mouth and waits, digging her nails into her palms so hard it might draw blood.

And then, all of a sudden, Klaus stops. She grunts at the loss of his heat and fingers and the warmth of his body between her legs.

"Why?!" she protests with a frown. "I did what you said! Get back down there!"

Klaus chuckles. "You're not calling the shots tonight, love."

"Are you freaking -"

" _Shhhh_ ," he hisses, arching his eyebrows at her. He wipes his glistening, raspberry lips with the back of his hand and it's all Caroline can do not to launch herself at him. "What did I say about being obedient?" he asks calmly while he peels off his shirt. Even hot and bothered and writhing as she is, Caroline can’t help the way her eyes rake ardently down his body, from his strong, broad shoulders, past the dips of lean muscle on his chest and the narrow curve of his waist, all the way to the volume pressing against his dark denims. That has to be uncomfortable, she thinks, teeth worrying her lower lip, heat blazing all over.

With two quick movements, Klaus tears her bra and her panties out of her, discarding both ruined items on the floor. Caroline gapes. "My lingerie are not your enemies," she says on mere principle, even as she feels a pulse of heat traveling down her abdomen.

"You're quite wrong," Klaus replies with ease as he starts to work on his belt. "Anything that keeps me from seeing you must be destroyed."

“Oh?” She licks her lips with the tip of her tongue as she spreads her legs further apart, jutting her chest up to flaunt her breasts. Klaus' hips stir, the nasty sound he makes giving her goosebumps.

He pushes his denims down, hooking the waistband of his boxer briefs under his balls, exposing the full length of his rock-hard, swollen cock. It glistens with pre-come, beaded at the top. He closes his hand around the shaft, lips parting as he begins a slow, leisure stroke - and then it's Caroline's turn to grunt, almost whining, salivating from how much she wants him - to have her mouth on him, to swallow him, to pull him inside her. She is so hot and aching between her legs she might come just from watching him.

 _Damn Mikaelson_ , she thinks. Even half naked, with a hard cock in his hand and nothing but lewd intentions behind his eyes, he still looks the picture of perfection, like some rock star or underworld royalty. She's reduced to a puddle of hot want and Klaus is relishing being in glorious control of the situation.

"I want to see you," he says, his voice grave with muddy desire. "Touch yourself, Caroline. Grab your breasts like you wanted to."

She lets out an incoherent sound - part relief, part gratefulness, part despair because that's not going to be nearly enough anymore - and then puts her arms down, hands sliding up from her stomach to cup her breasts. She rolls her nipples between her fingers, teasing and pinching and moaning with deliberate intent, her eyes never leaving Klaus.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes out, gaze dark and filled with lust. Somehow, he manages to keep his strokes steady and slow, thrusting into his own hand. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, Caroline?"

"Why don't you show me?"

Without hesitation, Klaus plunges two fingers inside of her again. The unexpected movement sends Caroline reeling. She throws her head back, a _true_ loud moan tearing out of her chest at the same time she clamps around his fingers, bucking down against his hand. He slides in and out of her in a steady rhythm, in tandem with his strokes, and uses his thumb to tease her swollen clit. Caroline abandons all manner of control then, rolling her hips to fuck his hand. She is so far gone that she won't last for much longer, climax pulling at her insides as blood pounds in her ears.

"Look at me," Klaus commands as she lets her lids flutter shut. The way he stares at her - taking in every curve, every valley, every hill, every secret corner of her soul - makes her shudder, her moans coming out in ragged breaths. He has a ravenous kind of fascination in his gaze, like he's committing every patch of skin on her body to memory. He's marking her, claiming her, and it makes Caroline clamp tighter around his fingers, moan louder. A mere look from him can tip her over the edge. That's how ridiculously at his mercy she is.

 _Yes_ , she's saying. _Take me. Have me. I'm yours. I'm all yours._

"Klaus, please..." she begs, voice breaking and dragging. "I need you inside me."

"Are you going to come for me?" he asks in a hoarse voice, his thumb quickening around her clit. Caroline can do no more than nod.

She lets out a loud whimper when her insides twist and her body explodes in pleasure. At that exact moment, when she’s still at the peak of climax, Klaus removes his fingers and, before she can even form a complaint, he buries his cock inside her to the hilt, sliding in all at once.

He was right; Caroline sees stars.

Her body is responding before she can even find her thoughts, quivering, clenching, twisting with pleasure. Caroline cries out, fingers digging into Klaus' back, his body now on top of hers, and all she can feel is the amazing explosion inside of her and the heat of him and the way her heart is beating so fast it might rip out of her chest. Klaus' filthy growl carries through her body like a frisson, and before she's even recovered from her first release, the second is already building on top of it when Klaus starts to move.

All that self-control he exhibited while he teased her and stroke himself is gone; Klaus pounds into her with reckless abandon, rolling his hips and grinding against her clit with every move. It's wildfire, two eruptions colliding as he drives in and out, in and out, going harder and faster and deeper with each thrust. She finally - _finally_ \- sinks her hand into his hair, wrapping her fingers around the wild, sweaty curls and pulling strongly, which only makes him grunt louder. Klaus buries his face into her neck, biting and kissing muttering words she can't fully understand. _Mine_ and _Beautiful_ and _Perfect_ and _Mine, mine, mine_.

Caroline grinds her teeth while she lifts her hips to meet his every thrust, stars dancing on the corners of her eyes as he angles his hips just so to find her sweet spot every time, grazing against her hypersensitiveness with every move. The only thing drowning out the slapping sound of their bodies clashing are their breathless grunts and moans. With each masterful stroke of his hips, Caroline feels like she's a ticking bomb, so raw and desperate the slightest sudden movement could send her off. Klaus fucks all the coherence out of her, leaves her completely lost to the waves inside and the primal need that takes over.

"Klaus," she moans again, her nails dragging down the damp skin of his back, his muscles working under her touch, while the other hand tightens around his hair. She wants to tell him she's close, she wants to tell him not to stop, to never stop, she wants to scream a million things, but his name is the last comprehensible thought left in her head. “ _Klaus_."

He slows down his moves, but drives in deeper, pushing slightly away from her to better control his thrusts, and that's when Caroline loses it. Klaus feels her orgasm coming and stabs deep and slow into her, holding her in place, pinned under him, with no escape, while she clenches tightly around him.

Her entire body tenses as her climax crests like a giant wave and then breaks, powering through her even harder than before. He waits until she's shuddering before he moves again, faster now, pounding out his own orgasm, and he doesn’t last long either. Klaus presses flush down, his body rigid over hers, teeth closing around her neck as he erupts inside her. She pants lowly when she feels the quaking pulse of his climax, clamping down on him, rolling her hips and riding out the last of her own pleasure, mixing it with his. Klaus simply lets himself fall on top of her when he's done, his mouth open against her shoulder, back moving up and down, up and down as he tries to regain his breath.

Caroline shuts her eyes, one hand caressing the small of his back absently as she tries to recompose some manner of clarity. All strength has been drained out of her, but she feels nothing but pure, unadulterated bliss. She couldn't stand right now if her life depended on it, her knees all weak as though her bones had been replaced by rubber and she was made of plume, floating in the sea of warmth of a perfect afterglow. A tiny piece of her, deep inside, still shakes with the tingling shock that chases through her body. She has come completely undone, fell apart at the seams, like Klaus has broken her down and sewn her back together.

It's a while before either of them moves. She gasps when Klaus slides out of her. He quickly kicks out the rest of his clothes and the two of them shift so they can both fit on the narrow couch, lying on their sides, face to face. Naked, sweaty chest to naked, sweaty chest. Their hearts still offset, slowly coming down from the mad frenzy. Caroline wraps an arm around his waist and nuzzles into his chest, placing soft kisses on his hot skin while he snakes her into an embrace, nose buried into her hair.

In some faint, distant corner of her mind, she's aware that they've made a mess on the couch that will require time and attention, but she’ll worry about it later. At least this is one mess she'll have no hard feelings tidying up. This one will put a smile on her face, a song on his lips and a little flutter down her belly.

The mouth that can kill with a bite, profess threats and hatred in a single breath and ravage through her with its cunning tongue turns gentle and tender when he kisses her head, soft lips brushing against her forehead. It causes a stir in her, but of a different type altogether. It’s not earth-shattering, it doesn’t send her head spinning, doesn’t make her heart stop. Instead, it pulls her down from cloud nine and grounds her, makes her feel safe, reassured. Caroline relaxes in a way she only ever seems capable of doing when she’s with him. With Klaus’ heart beating under her kisses, nothing could ever hurt them. This is, as it has been for a while now, the place where her fractured heart crawls to mend.

It’s the mother of all ironies that in Klaus’ absolute chaos, in the violent waves of his mercurial temper, Caroline finds peace.

“If only you were always this obedient,” he murmurs, his lips drawing into a smile on her skin. “You wouldn’t get into so much trouble.”

She huffs weakly. “If only you would choose to settle all our scores through mind-blowing sex instead of picking a fight.”

Klaus laughs, and the sound goes straight to her heart. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“Keep it in mind for the next time you want to pout at me.”

“I shall.” He touches a finger under her chin, tilting her head up for a kiss - _finally_. It's slow and lazy but sizzling, flooding her with warmth and affection. She chases his mouth when he breaks apart, and Klaus smiles against her lips. “Rest, sweetheart,” he says. “You’ve had a long day.”

Caroline hums, kissing him once more before allowing the gentle pull of weariness to grab a hold of her. She rubs the tip of her nose against that one birthmark on his throat that she has claimed for herself and closes her eyes.

Sleep finds her in no time.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who enjoy a soundtrack, there's a song to go with the smut scene: Touch by Barcelona.
> 
> Sooooo.... 🤣 As always, writing (and posting) smut makes me anxious, so I hope this was ok and you guys enjoyed it! 🙈 If you did, I would love to know! 
> 
> Hope this was a nice chapter for you guys to read as it was for me to write. :) I was so into the idea of Klaus bored out of his mind in Mystic Falls, desperate to find something to entertain himself with. 🤣 Also: having _just_ watching TVD seasons 2 and 3, Klefan is real, no one's going to convince me otherwise. Sorry.
> 
> In case you haven't watched/don't remember TVD S6, Caroline was not in this episode, so I had to do a double squeezing there to fit both of them into the show's plot. I hope I did a good job! :)
> 
> Two more chapters to go! And the next two are kinda Part 1 and Part 2 (as were the final two episodes of TVD S6). Can't believe we're almost at the finish line. :O Thank you so much to everyone reading, especially to those of you who always drop me a note! You guys have really kept me going through some tough times and moments of doubt, in the middle of a pandemic. 💖 Appreciate your support so, so much!


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